School Bus Breaks Down in a Lonely Area — Narrative Descriptive Essay

‘Clank, clank,’ followed by the sudden screech of the tyres jolted me out of my slumber. Rubbing my eyes, I peered out of the bus window to see pitch darkness all around. “What happened?” I asked my friend Sunil sitting beside me. As if in answer to my query the lights came on and the driver’s cabin door opened. Our conductor and guide, a short stout man, with a receding hairline emerged gesticulating with his hand and uttering, “Axle toot gaya.” We groaned in disgust and slumped back on our seats.

Peering at my wristwatch, I realised that we had barely travelled an hour from Dudhwa National Park and were about another hour’s journey to our hotel in Lakhimpur. Thus probably we were in the middle of the jungle. A sudden fear crept into my heart. I anxiously peered out of the window, straining my eyes to survey the surroundings. In the dim moonlight I could see nothing but tall sal and sesam trees, their leaves rustling in the mild breeze. This too seemed quite loud, in the sudden silence that had enveloped us.

“Well boys,” the voice of our class teacher Mr Johnson broke the stillness. “The bus’s axle has broken and they are trying to call for another bus, that will ferry us back to the hotel. However, this shall take two to three hours. Please stay inside the bus, for we are in a dense forest area. Do not, I repeat do not venture out, under any circumstance.” The stern warning made some students who had scampered out of their seat, to straighten their legs outside, slump back. My worst fears being confirmed, I stretched my legs, trying to make myself as comfortable as possible.

After some time, unable to bear the stuffiness inside the bus, I slid the window pane open and stuck my neck out to catch some fresh air. An earthy fragrance of an unusual variety wafted in the air, which seemed quite refreshing. The occasional hooting of an owl and chirping of birds livened the otherwise grave atmosphere. The unusual calm was suddenly broken by a loud alarm call of a languor, which echoed throughout the jungle. Just then I felt two strong hands on my shoulders pushing me back to my seat, simultaneously slamming the window shut. Mr Johnson stood glowering at me, “Stupid, we are in a jungle, the alarm call you just heard, could in all probability herald the presence of a tiger in the vicinity.”

This heightened my anxiety. I started peering through the closed window panes of the bus, trying to get a glimpse of the elusive animal, who had not put in an appearance on our forest trek throughout the day. Minutes ticked by but nothing happened. Suddenly the calm was broken by what seemed to be a herd, trampling the dry leaves. In the head light of the bus I saw a herd of Neel gais’ darting across the road. Seeing the fear stricken animals from so close quarters made me a bit nervous. Danger indeed seemed to be lurking nearby.

A strange feeling crept through me. I had read stories of Jim Corbett and how he killed man-eaters using a goat as a bait. I could now imagine how the goat may have felt, waiting for the tiger to pounce on it. Unfortunately here we were the bait and tiger the hunter.

Fortunately nothing happened. After an hour or so a new bus arrived and under the watchful eyes of the teacher and conductor, we were herded into it. By midnight we were back in our hotel. I however did not forget to say a brief prayer, before I dosed off to sleep.