Essay by Lam Guan Wah

QUESTION

Write a description of The rush hour.


ESSAY

“Sigh,”as I looked at the bus stop about 50 metres in front of me.It was bursting with people. Such was the usual state when I left for school after my Drama lesson every Monday and Wednesday at 6pm. Nonetheless, I had to move towards it in order to board the bus. People were looking at their watches and getting irritated with how slow the bus was. Others were sitting down, having a break, looking totally oblivious to the elderlies and pregnant woman near them. Minutes passed and the blue and red rectangular vehicle came.

“Screech...” the bus with the number '157' flashing brightly on it braked, causing a high pitched sound. People rushed to the door, awaiting its movement. As the door opened, people pushed and squeezed through the door as if a shopping mall was holding a sale. The commuters charged into the bus mercilessly. Patiently, I stood behind and walked in small steps, entering the shaking vehicle slowly. Some privileged few sat down on unoccupied seats, while most moved to the rear. "Why are people so impatient?” I wondered silently in my head. "There is still a lot of space left...” I quizzed beneath my breadth.

The bus with its motors started once more, black, poisonous smoke bellowing out of its exhaust pipe, exited the bus bay. Slowly, it pulled over bus-stop by bus-stop.The same scenario could be seen throughout where I was standing- the middle of the bus. Passengers pressed against the glass doors, awaiting it to open before they could move up. Once,the bus could fill no more, it rejected to serve more. The stranded ones were left behind, their mouths wide open and eyes staring at us.Some were even shouting remarks that seemed hurtful. I felt lucky not to hear it, thanks to the four metal walls surrounding me.

Everyone including me, grumbled, both silently and aloud as the old vehicle with paint dropping off, approached and pulled over at every bus-stop. Others were grumbling because they had to squeeze once more for the alighting and boarding passengers. For me, the mixture of the smelly perspiration from the male workers and aromatic perfume from the female businesswomen were making my head dizzy. Hurry up! I want to get off!

The car horns outside trumpeted violently all of a sudden. Wondering what had happened, I pressed my face against the windows behind me in an attempt to find the cause. A traffic jam! Cars of different shape and size lined up in a straight row and honked in irritation. Finally, after what seemed like 45 minutes, the stationary bus moved and roared back to life again.

As my destination came nearer and nearer, I shouted and questioned myself in my head, Great!Now, how do I alight this fully packed rusty thing later on?

Eventually, we arrived. I tried to squeeze through the sea of human beings, just to find myself in an embarrassing state. Once my upper body came into contact with the other commuter’s shoulders, all eyes shot straight up at me. At long last, I escaped from the torturous hell of the rush hour and heaved a sigh of relieve. I shall avoid the Rush Hour, I vowed. But, could I?