The Curious Incident of the Stranger on the bus

Its been a long time since I posted anything, and the whole world has gone topsy-turvy since then.. More about all that later, but for now, I describe the curious incident that happened to me on a BMTC bus :

On a nice sunny Bangalore morning, I got ready to get to work, and took the usual 0830bus from my home. Initially it was all crowded because of all the school kids, but that soon cleared out, and the bus was empty. Then, standing close to the rear door, I saw that a man sitting in the rear seat was eying me quite curiously. I was surprised, but then I deduced that he seemed a rather rustic fellow, little less on bus etiquette.. Not minding him, I continued to enjoy the show on the radio, apparently meant for the 'fatafat generation'. Am not sure if I qualify for the same.

At the next stop, literally half the bus got down, and I found a place to sit on the last row.. This curious guy, finding an empty place next to me, came and perched himself there, and then, I felt a nudge on my right arm. I take out the ear-phone from my ear, and look at him, and he asks me, brimming with innocence :

Stranger : Are you a north Indian?

Me : [Very surprised, since no body in this city has been so blatantly regionalistic with me ever] Yes.

Stranger : From where are you?

Me :[Eyeing him with a great deal of suspicion] Delhi.

Stranger :[ His eyes light up in a weird kind of way] Oh.. Beautiful City. Can I ask you a question?

[Wondering as to what he has been doing all along anyway, I nod]

Stranger : Are the people in Delhi nice.

Me : [To cut him off, I answer rather sternly] Yes.

Stranger : [With a rather childlike curiosity] But I have heard people in Delhi are not nice to strangers.

Me : [Trying to a give a clean diplomatic answer] They are as nice as people in Bangalore.

Stranger : [Still not very convinced, but taking my argument at face value] Oh ok.

After this, I go to listening my music, and he starts ruminating, trying to assimilate all that I have told him, and debating with himself as to how much my words can be trusted.. A few minutes later, another nudge. I take out my ear-phones again, and look at him.

Stranger : Is it true that North Indians do not make friends with South Indians.

Me :[ With a look of consternation] No. It is not true.

Stranger : But I have heard so..

Me : North Indians are friendly people.

Stranger :[Still doubting me] Do you have friends who are south Indians?

Me : [Without thinking] Yes.

Then, I turn away, and start listening to the music. As my stop comes, I get up from my seat, and head to the door. He tugs at me, and asks

Stranger : Are you sure you have South Indians as friends?

Me : [emphatically] Yes, many of them. [The bus comes to a stop, and I get down, and look back, at the curious face of the guy in his mid twenties, trying to comprehend data fed to him by a complete stranger, seemingly against the indoctrination that he has had all his life.]

As I walked to work from the bus stand, out of sight of that strange man, I must confess, I am guilty of profiling my friend list based on regionalistic considerations : The only consolation, most of my friends turned out to be South Indians.