The Yellow Chariot 

Chapter 4

Sonia, my best friend, travels by the school bus—a big, yellow, shiny new one that always gets the VIP spot right next to the school gate.
All other private vehicles and cabs are pushed far away, like second-class citizens of transport.
Through the yellow windows, I can hear laughter, giggles, and songs. I want that too.

Granny has hired a cheap cab for me.
It carries so many children that we’re practically stacked—like a saluter wagon.
The seniors in the cab bossing us younger ones around.

A few days later, while coming back from school, our cab’s tyre went flat.
The driver told us to get down on the roadside while he fixed it.
(Well… it was fun playing on the roadside.)

The next morning, one kid vomited in the cab.
The driver had to stop mid-route to clean up the mess.
We reached school late.
(I had a solid excuse to miss the first period.)

Then one day, cops stopped our cab.
They asked for the driver’s work permit.
He didn’t have one.
So… he bribed them.
(And that’s when an idea flashed in my head.)

I marched up to Grandpa.

“Grandfather,” I said seriously, “our cab driver keeps stopping in the middle of the road.”

Grandfather looked up from his newspaper. “Why?”

“For many reasons,” I said, lowering my voice. “One day, we almost had an accident.”

Grandfather’s eyes widened. “What happened?!”

“Our tyre got flat in the middle of traffic,” I whispered. “We had to wait on the roadside. Then a naughty boy pushed me. I nearly fell onto the road.”

Grandfather looked furious. “I’ll complain to his parents!”

I quickly said, “No no, the footpath is just too narrow. Only a few children can fit. It’s not really his fault.”

I paused dramatically. “And… our driver often argues with the police.”

Grandfather leaned forward. “Police?! Why?”

“He doesn’t have a work permit,” I explained. “He tries to… you know… bargain with them.”

Papa and Grandfather were now fully alert, looking at me like I was some crime reporter.

“That’s not all,” I added, building the suspense.
“One day, a cop told the driver he would take us all to the police station.”
I looked down, shivering for effect. “I was terrified.”

Grandfather was angry. Very angry.

(Exactly what I needed.)

And I continued,
“Then, on another day, a child vomited in the cab… in the morning! The smell was unbearable—I was afraid I might vomit too.
We got so late to school, the teacher made us stand outside the classroom. Everyone stared at me. It was so humiliating.”

(Not as humiliating as when a senior boy put his hands under my skirt in the cab. I hated it. Is it normal? I don’t know how or what to say.So I decided: No cab. No boys.)

Grandfather’s face darkened.
He said firmly, “You will not go to school by that cab tomorrow.”
(My plan worked.)

Although Granny takes all the decisions—from buying matchboxes to managing everyone’s bedtime—Grandfather is always looking for his golden opportunity.
And today, he found it.

He looked serious. “It seems that cab is not at all safe for children.”
(Absolutely.)

Then he turned to Granny, as if waiting for her royal nod of approval.

Granny had been listening the whole time, eyes lowered, pretending to be busy with nothing in particular.
(But her ears? Wide open.)

Fifteen minutes passed.

Granny knew I have bought a challenge for her. And she hated it. Then, slowly, in her very controlled voice (the kind that hides a small volcano), Granny asked,
“What’s the alternative?”

Grandfather sat upright. He knew he was doing the right thing.
And he was determined not to let Granny twist it into something guilty.
(Which is not easy.)

Before anyone could blink, I jumped in:
“Bus. School bus.”

Granny froze.
She already knew the answer—school bus = more money.

Grandfather knew it too.

“I’ll pay the school bus charges,” he said calmly.

Granny didn’t respond.
But I could feel the heat of her silence:
She still wanted him to spend his money according to her plan.

Without any further discussion, Grandfather said to Papa,
“Inform the school that Lolo will be travelling by the school bus.”
(Grandfather was clearly enjoying the feeling of being in control.)

Papa simply said, “Okay.” (He glanced at Granny and understood… his orders weren’t meant to be taken too seriously.)

The next morning, Papa went to drop me at school.
There, he met Bhatia Sir and quickly got busy chatting.
(He and his innocent chatting — just like me!)

But for me, it was boring.
So I went to my classroom.

Time was crawling like a snail. It was still only the first period.
Ms. Anu, our English teacher, was narrating a sad story.
But honestly, it was impossible to control my excitement —
Today, I would finally travel by the school bus!
(Daydreaming happens to be my favorite hobby.)

Ms. Anu caught me smiling to myself.
“Lolo, what’s so funny in the story? Care to share the joke with the class?” she said, dripping sarcasm.

Without missing a beat, I said,
“Madam, you’re looking very beautiful today.”

She softened a little and said,
“Sit down and be attentive.”
(Works every time!)

Second Period

Manju Madam entered the classroom.
Today too, she also looked beautiful.
(Not really.)

She came straight to me and asked,
“Lolo, have you done your homework?”

“No, Madam.”

“Then go and stand at the back.”
(With pleasure.)

Time kept slugging along.

I consoled myself:
“Only two more periods left before the lunch break. After lunch, time flies. And one of the three periods is games! Don’t worry, school will be over soon.”

Finally, the last period arrived — again with Manju Madam.

She said,
“Children, assume I give you two candies, and then two more candies. How many candies do you have in your hand?”

Immediately, I shot my hand up high.
(In moments of happiness, my brain performs best.)

Manju Madam looked straight at me.
She made a face.
(She hates my confidence.)

I stood up with full pride and declared,
“Four candies, Madam!”

Manju Madam said simply,
“Hmm… sit down.”
(Just hmm…! It was brilliant!)

It was so easy — 2 + 2 = 4.
Why didn’t Mom ever explain maths with candies?
I could have understood much earlier!

Suddenly, the bell rang — and school was over.

With a great sense of achievement, I rushed outside to get into the bus… but —
Which one?

There were so many buses lined up in a row!
Which one should I take?
I decided: I’ll choose the best-looking one.

There it was — the bright, shiny, new yellow bus right in the middle.

I hesitantly climbed a few steps onto the bus and spotted Sonia sitting in the middle row.
She waved her hand — and just like that, I forgot all my confusion and happily took the seat next to her.

Sonia said,
“I didn’t know your home comes on this route!”

I said,
“Me neither.”

Sonia smiled,
“It’ll be fun travelling together every day!”

I smiled back.
(Hope it’s the right bus.)

I quickly grabbed the window seat.
It felt so freeing to look outside for as long as I wanted.

Sonia had brought a “bus tiffin” — (so nice!).
It’s so much fun to eat while travelling!
I must ask Mom to pack me one too tomorrow.
(If I manage to reach home today…)
Honestly, how does Sonia even manage to save her tiffin for the bus ride?
I usually finish mine during school hours!

The bus kept stopping, and children got off at their respective stops.
I wondered —
How does everyone know exactly where to get off?

Maybe the conductor knows each child’s stop…
So, I told myself, Just chill and enjoy.

But after a while, something felt wrong.
Usually, it never takes this long to reach home.

I asked Sonia,
“When I used to travel by cab, it only took 15 minutes to reach home… now it’s been more than 30 minutes!”

She said,
“Yeah, the school bus takes a longer route.”

I said,
“Oh… okay.”

After every stop, the number of children got fewer and fewer.
And with every stop, my heart sank a little more.

It wasn’t a joyride anymore.
Not even the window view, snacks, or chatting could make me feel better now.

And when Sonia finally got down from the bus —
I got really scared.
No one was left.
I was the only one on the bus.

The driver and the conductor both looked at me strangely.

The driver said rudely,
“You… little girl, why didn’t you get down at your stop?”

(Stop? Which stop? Was I supposed to know that?)

He asked again, harsher this time,
“Where is your home?”
(He looked like a monster to me.)

I gave him a completely lost look.

The bus driver growled,
“Our duty is over! Either tell us quickly where you live or get down here!”

(Here?)
I peeked out of the window — the place looked strange and scary.
Suddenly, I realized just how much I loved Manju Madam… and my granny.

I guess here I have to start crying.
(I’m not very smart)

The conductor gave me a kind look.
He said to the driver,
“You go ahead. I’ll take this child back to the school.”

It seemed I had no other choice but to trust a stranger.
(Granny always says: Don’t trust strangers. But what else could I do?)

The conductor carried my bag over one shoulder, held my hand firmly with his other, and we started walking.

(Walking?
School at walking distance for here?
Impossible!
It took one hour on the bus to reach here!)

I needed to ask him carefully —
without sounding like I was doubting him —
(because what if he gets angry at me?)

I asked him softly,
“I can’t walk for long. Can we please take an auto?”

He replied,
“The school is not very far. I know a shortcut. We’ll be there soon.”

(Shortcut?
Granny says: Never take shortcuts in life. Always take the right path, even if it’s longer.
Granny is full of wisdom… for others.)

The lonely path was terrifying.
It was a hot summer afternoon — the road stretched endlessly, and not a single soul was in sight.

(What if he kidnaps me?
Granny always says how bad the world outside is, how no one is worth trusting.)

We kept walking… slowly crossing oceans and seven skies —
(I mean… we crossed a railway track and a small slum area.)

I never knew such places even existed in this big city.
(He might hide me in one of these huts… starve me for days… cut off my limbs… and take me to another city to beg!)

(Granny has completely poisoned my innocent mind.)

Suddenly —
I recognised the area near my school.
(The world is not so bad after all!)

Relief flooded through me.
The school never looked so charming before!

From a distance, I spotted Papa.
I ran with all my strength and jumped into his arms —
(the safest place on the planet.)

He hugged me tight.
I wanted to hug Granny too, but she was busy fighting with the school authorities.
(Granny is the strongest warrior when it comes to scolding others.)

I told everyone my whole adventure.
As a result, the bus driver lost his job immediately.

I came back home.
Everyone was eagerly waiting for me.
They pampered me, and I loved all the attention.

Papa proudly told everyone how bravely I handled the whole situation.
(Really…?)

Feeling encouraged, I thought, Why not brag a little more?
I added,
“The driver told me to get down in the middle of the road, but I bravely refused.
I told him, ‘You better take me back to school!’”

Everyone was impressed.
(Wow, what a hero!)

Granny suddenly spoke up.
(I knew something was coming. She had been too quiet until now.)

Granny said,
“But why did Lolo take the wrong bus in the first place?”

(If she thinks it was my fault, why was she fighting with the school staff?)

Grandfather immediately supported me,
“It was the school’s fault. She is too young to handle this alone.
The teacher should have taken her to the right bus herself.”

Granny countered,
“But Lolo should have asked her teacher before climbing onto any bus randomly.”

Grandfather then turned to Papa,
“Did you inform the school about her travelling by bus?”

Papa replied innocently,
“Oh… I forgot.”
(Just like me!)

Granny said firmly,
“From tomorrow, she will travel by cab.
This happens when you don’t consult me.”

I started crying…

Grandfather quickly said,
“No, we’ll find another way.”

He turned to Papa and said,
“Can you take Lolo and siblings to school every day?”
(Grandfather is so intelligent!)

Papa said happily,
“Of course! I would love to.
My shop opens at 9 a.m., and her school starts at 7:50 a.m.”
(Granny didn’t like that.)

Granny said,
“But who will bring her back?
Afternoon is the busiest time at the shop.
You can’t leave.”

Papa replied,
“If you come to the shop around 1 p.m.,
then I can go and pick her up.”

Granny made a face and grandfather said,
“Yes she can…“
(Grandfather was sure what he was doing.)

From that day onwards,
Papa willingly and happily took full responsibility for dropping me off and picking me up from school every day.

He is so calm.
He never rushes me in the morning,
and his funny jokes make me laugh so much.

(Mornings became my favorite time of the day!)