Sundowning Diary - Part 3 HTML version

By Farhad Mammadov
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2016 Farhad Mammadov
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Chapter 7
Give me a break
Funny experience it was, taking a public bus, having twenty hundred dollars
in pocket, just eager to discover the notion of public transportation. My dad – the
very oil magnate I mentioned before, was so angry to hear me taking a trip to
Buzovna beach – lying 35 km to the east of the capital – Baku- without necessary
precaution – without my personal giant size bodyguard, Jafar- and putting my life
and his reputation in danger. I barely stepped in inside the bus when I heard driver
roaring like a bear;
“ Hey , are we going to wait for you all day, little rascal.. Chop-chop” – he
said – old man in his late 60‟s, with peculiar purple long scar on his nose, like he
just survived a live-or-die kind of fight.
Bus was so crowded that, it was impossible to take a soon-to-be vacated seat
for at least an hour, only women and children sitting, remainder, squeezing on each
other somehow to get the best position near the middledoor to be able to get off
without getting polished shoes dirty or potentially without falling victim for local
“goldfinger” pocket-pickers, most of them holding from straps hanging from shiny
overhead bar. I‟m yet not mentioning the terrible heat.
Nevertheless, I did not give a damn about being robbed or assaulted ins ide
overburdened public bus. The problem I pondered on was, how I was supposed to
pay a bus fare and the how I was supposed to get off from this “human jungle”. It
has been my first experience with everyday social hardships of lower income
population that I had later learned comprised absolute majority in my country. I