But this time, Abhi didn't back down. He ran as fast as he could and just in the nick of time caught up to the bus and got on. As he stood on the first step of the entrance, he tried to look ahead, but all he could see was the back of a crowd filling the bus to the brim.
The bus was packed with a diverse group of people, including factory workers, cleaners, sweepers, janitors, nurses, and postmen. Despite their different uniforms and jobs, they all seemed united in some way. They were bound together by the weariness of a long day of work, drenched in sweat and sharing the cramped space.
They kept standing, holding onto the railings and hooks attached to the bus. The citizens quietly swayed with the jostling of the loud vehicle as it rode along the edge of the city. It was apparent at a glance that these people weren’t smiling. There were no words spoken once the bus started moving through the evening; their faces reflected dread and a lack of motivation.
The few people seated on the bus felt fortunate, taking the opportunity to lean back and close their eyes for a few minutes of rest during the quiet, almost serene ride home. Those standing watched the seated passengers with envy, though they didn’t voice their thoughts, continuing to hang on as the bus swayed along the road.
Their struggles united them, but so did a subtle sense of pride. Despite working tirelessly in low-class jobs, they took pride in their positions, respecting the fact that they got to wear the worn-down uniform on their deteriorating bodies every day and had the privilege of working in the High City.
The conductor of the bus wove his way through the aisles. He was a little man in his late thirties, with dark skin, brown eyes, and black hair. His khaki uniform made with a conductor's hat made him stand out. He asked for passengers’ tickets or passes. Very few bought new tickets; most already had their own bus passes. In fact, many of the people on the bus were regulars, as their jobs required them to commute at the same time each day.
The conductor mostly asked for verbal confirmation from passengers claiming to have their passes. He sometimes noticed that some lied about having one, or lied about it still being valid. The expiration date on some of the passenger's passes should have been long gone, yet he let it go, understanding the desperate need most of them were in. He tried to subtly remind people to renew their passes in case a senior checker came by because both the passengers and the conductor would be fined for not renewing their passes and not checking the expired pass respectfully. While performing his duties, he moved past the passengers, verbally confirming their passes. Although some were lying about the validity, most told the truth. Not a single person had purchased a brand new ticket until now.
"Hey, sir, can I buy a ticket to Yang station, specifically the adjacent ticket to Radhav Nagar, Low City stop?" Abhi asked the bus conductor, holding out some change.
This caught the conductor's attention. He adjusted his khaki hat and looked Abhi in the eyes. It was rare to see someone buy tickets in the first place, but a young man in a school uniform doing so was even more unusual.
"Sure, here you go." The conductor took the change from Abhi’s hand and printed out a ticket from his ancient ticket machine. As it took some time for the ticket to be issued, the conductor engaged in small talk to avoid an awkward silence. "So, brother, how did you find yourself in the High City today? You seem to be new here." This piqued the interest of a few people nearby, who subtly looked at the conductor. It was quite unusual for a bus conductor to engage in small talk, especially about irrelevant subjects, as they were usually fed up with handling passengers, and the riders themselves were too tired to converse.
"Oh, I just started high school in the High City. This is my first day, so I'm buying a ticket," Abhi replied nonchalantly.
This statement stirred even more curiosity among the passengers, who turned their attention to Abhi. Although slightly startled, he wasn’t too concerned, as their looks were mostly filled with shallow curiosity, not malice.
The conductor adjusted his khaki hat again, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He smiled with a soft frown, feeling a bit impressed and proud. "Damn! Did you really get into a high school in the High City? You said you live in Radhav Nagar, Low City, right? Well, congratulations, big man! It’s rare to see someone get in."
Other passengers echoed this sentiment, offering positive comments about Abhi’s achievement. One older man chimed in, "I work as a peon at Kartvvay school. I heard they let in two citizens from the Low City. I’m glad to see other schools are also taking the initiative to help our people follow their dreams. Make your parents proud, beta."
Caught off guard, the socially awkward Abhi simply replied, "Yes, thank you. I was very lucky to get accepted."
In the cheerful atmosphere, the conductor asked, "So, what school did you get into? I can help you with the bus routes if you need."
The various passengers who had noticed this exceptional circumstance felt a spark of anticipation for the first time amidst their repetitive routine, turning to Abhi—the unexpected variable in their mundane lives.
"Oh, thank you very much! I got into a school in the centre of the city, which is much closer to the western bus station.
The school is called
H.S. Kolar..."
...
The conductor, who had just asked about Abhi's school name, stood motionless, his eyes fixed and unblinking. The passengers who had been partaking in the conversation suddenly fell silent, gazing at Abhi with heavy expressions. Even those who had not previously been engaged turned to look at the boy who made that statement.
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The eyes that once held a look of pride and slight envy towards Abhi now turned wary and doubtful. Despite not wearing a uniform, Abhi's attire followed a distinctive dress code typically associated with students. He wore black formal pants paired with a checkered white shirt and a velvet black bow tie. While this outfit was not mandatory at Kolar, it was certainly recommended. What set Abhi apart from a businessman or a high-class salaryman was the absence of a suit; he wasn't carrying one either.
Combined with Abhi's youthful appearance and the fact that he was travelling by bus instead of his own vehicle, it led anyone to assume he was a student from the high city. However, no one expected to see a student from the most prestigious school in the country.
The thing about Kolar is that entrance cannot be gained merely through merit or money. Even if someone is a hyper-genius prodigy, they need the right contacts and connections to get in. Similarly, even the child of the president must have top-tier academic ability or sports merit to qualify.
This fact contributed to Kolar's infamous reputation and serves as the foundation of its prestige. Yet, Abhi's "aura" as a student from this elite school seemed diminished, perhaps due to his time spent with its goofy staff and the principal himself, so he revealed his school completely nonchalantly.
The unaware passengers, however, were not accustomed to such circumstances. Based on their understanding, a case like this should be impossible. Even if this unknown child standing before them was a secret genius, he was still a resident of Low City, essentially the opposite of someone with the elite status of an average Kolar student.
For the citizens of Low City, Kolar was not a dream school; it was a mere delusion. It was nearly impossible to even secure a job as a janitor there, let alone for a child to gain acceptance as a student.
In fact, from all the local history these passengers knew, only one other child from Low City had ever claimed to attend Kolar, and that story ended in unspeakable tragedy. This led the bus passengers to immediately begin making obscure assumptions about Abhi for various reasons, yet not one of them could pinpoint the truth. Amid the eerie silence and heavy gazes, the conductor attempted to confirm what he had just heard.
"Wait, H.S. Kolar? You mean THE HS Kolar?"
"Yessir, I know I was very lucky to get in. I had made an application from Rak-" Abhi weighed down his words and remembered the unnecessary commotion the reveal of his home caused, and chose to not repeat his mistake…" I had made an application from.. another city in my birthplace to the north and got the news of being accepted via letters, so just recently moved down here a few months ago.".
The conductor bobbed his head after gaining a bit of clarity, the gazes were still on Abhi but not as intense. This was the case because the new story they assumed was that Abhi was likely decently well off, and had made a solid application back from his homeplace, he probably knew some bigshots with connections back there or something along the lines.
But after moving to Nixtom he might have realized High City is too much for him to afford and decided to temporarily live in Low City. This story still meant Abhi was likely a genius and still incredibly lucky, but his situation wasn't totally hopeless like with every other young man in Low City.
Yet this wasn't enough for Abhi's name to be cleared of any doubt everyone else had, so they just nodded their heads at him and went back to their own thing, only subtly keeping notice of any proceedings.
But as the conductor had already collected all the tickets and was already in front of the bus so he decided to talk for a bit. "That's unbelievable! You a genius or something brother?." He said while smiling.
"Haha, I'm flattered, I just try to do my best," Abhi replied while scratching his head and looking at the floor with a subtle smile on his face.
"Well I'm always around here in the bus trade, let me know if you need any help." The conductor replied as he leaned on a bus railing near the drive while facing Abhi,
"Thank you, I'm truly grateful." Replied Abhi as he was facing the conductor while standing on the topmost stair of the bus's entrance.
The conductor then continued while looking and Abhi with a relaxed expression. "Forgot to introduce myself, I'm Issac D. Snutas, but everyone calls me Naru. What should I call you?"
Suddenly the bus struck a small pothole in its relatively smooth ride shaking awake the zooned out passengers and startling Abhi.
Even tho the bus was moving at a decent speed, the broken doors were only half closed and the entire bus floor was mottled with mud and dirt, and riddled with broken edges and squeaky seats. So Abhi, who was standing close to the half-open bus door, took some time to brace himself after the impact and stood properly holding onto the railing.
After settling down, both Abhi and the shaken-up passengers, Abhi finally answered.
"Nice to meet you Naru, you can call me Abhi," Abhi replied nonchalantly.
"Ay brother, It's impolite to not state your full name upon your first introduction with someone, take this as a big brother's advice. Trust me you'll need it if you wanna survive amongst high society." Naru said with a subtle brotherly smile as he leaned sideways on the railing with his crooked hat but straight eyes and crossed arms.
"My bad, you're right I'll keep that in mind. I'm Abhi Archana." Abhi replied awkwardly.
The cool and relaxed Naru narrowed his eyes a bit, for a few seconds he didn't say anything and the quiet gap was filled with the rustling of the bus's ride and the subtle gazes of the different passengers.
After waiting for a few seconds the narrow-eyed Naru finally asked the question all other passengers were thinking of as well. "Isn't Archana a woman's name? I might just be misunderstanding something here haha. Maybe up in the north, Archana is a common last name. Forgive me for my ignorance."
"Oh no, It's not a last name in my hometown. I actually just use my mother's name as last name because… because of personal reasons." Even though Abhi seemed nonchalant, his decision to refraining personal information came from the experiences he had just the day before. He may have felt it was necessary to be open about his identity with his classmates but while talking on a bus with complete strangers who he may or may not meet again; protecting his privacy was of higher importance.
But these actions also had their own side effects. As Naru had his eyes opened wide, he looked around to see other passengers doing the same as him. Their sense of curiosity quickly got drowned by a sense of fear and oppression after a bit of head nodding, all of them turned to different directions to face away from Abhi. Naru who was leaning against the railing slowly stood up straight and fixed his hat as a drop of sweat trickled by the side of his wary eyes.
By not saying his real last name, Abhi was unintentionally hiding his lineage. This led to everyone connecting a direct parallel to the last student of Low City who had gotten accepted into HS Kolar.
The son of a secret prostitute, who always hid something about his background and lineage. Which was later revealed to be the fact that he was a bastard child of a high-ranking member of the Kolar staff.
The same week the previous HS Kolar student's lineage was spread through rumours, both the child student of Kolar and his mistress mother had disappeared into thin air…
..........