The sign reads, "Please do not ask the driver what the time is."
I was ready to get off at my stop after a night of travel in the bus, bleary eyed. I saw his writing scrawled in a hurried Hindi, and broke out laughing. He looked up at me for a second, before looking back at the road, eyes red, a slight smile setting into them.
'It seems it's the only question they can ask me. In and out, in and out of that doorway, what's the time they ask, what's the time. It makes me mad.'
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