Miles to go before I...

I happen to be one of that hapless lot whose home and college are at places quite far away from each other. So that invariably meant commuting between these two places at least once in a while if not on all weekends .The journey between my home town Palghat and Calicut where I study takes around 4.5 hours even by the standards of the most optimistic and pleasant traveler. I prefer taking a train but miss it due to various reasons like

1. I am a self-confessed delayer (a habit that runs in my family)
2. The trains are at insane hours (read early morning…insane by my standards)
3. Time and trains wait for none

So that means I have to compromise. Finally I end up taking a bus…the rickety old state transport buses which roughly implies a 4.5 hours of roller coaster ride ,thanks to the state sponsored potholes (read abysses , gorges etc.)
So on a particularly miserable rainy morning , I boarded a bus from Palghat and settled comfortably in my seat , my Delsy under my seat, laptop next to me and a book. I was looking forward to a pleasant journey .

But misfortune strikes when you least expect it. I realized with a shock that my nephrons had switched over to a hyperactive mode accumulating water at an alarming pace. I was just two hours into the journey and the road stretched endlessly before me . The more I tried to forget about the sensation, the more intense it became . My brains and kidneys had conspired to make me suffer.

Since my system was not under my jurisdiction , there was little else I could do . I switched on the countdown timer in my mobile. I tried to estimate my liquid intake. About two cups of coffee plus all that metabolic water would amount to how much ??
No idea. I squirmed uneasily in my seat and the road stretched on endlessly before me…

The bus now stopped at a town midway . I actually contemplated getting down . But just a cursory glance at the shanty tin roofed toilets churned my stomach . And since I was traveling alone , I could not trust anybody with my belongings . So I was doomed to spend the rest of the journey in silent agony . I cursed my nephrons but to no effect . They were determined to flush out the entire urea from my system .

My countdown timer showed 1.5 hours more….and then 1 hour more…..
By that time the bus had reached the outskirts of the city . I could no longer contain myself. I hopped off the bus and went to the nearest wayside hotel and went in .
I walked past rows of men who stared at me as if I were an alien . Normally this would have offended me . But on that day , I hardly noticed it . I went in and relieved myself finally and I should say I found Nirvana and that too inside a toilet ..!! And then I took another bus to the city.

I am sure most of the women travelers would have been in similar situations at some point of time . This problem becomes more significant when one is traveling alone . Its a pity , or rather an irony that in spite of women conquering the zeniths of success ,such small but necessary provisions for female travelers are sidelined . But since ours is a land of ironies and we are a group of eccentrics, we should probably get used to such discomforts I suppose…