When my parents call and tell me that they can’t pick me up in the evening and I will have to manage on my own, my heart sinks. I swing into full combat mode, prepare my lungs to take on extra volume of oxygen, and give myself a pep talk because I will have to take a bus ride home and that too in the evening. The vehicle arrives at the bus stop already bent, like the leaning tower of Pisa, where there is little to no space but still the drivers see to it that they stop the bus for at least 15 minutes and fit passengers into the quantum realm i.e. they expect other passengers who are already there to turn into antmen and antwomen. Or at least that is what it seems like they want to do, considering how they stuff people into the vehicle like one stuffs “gundruk” in a glass jar.