i have avoided learning and memorising the time of arrival of the 229, 203, 210 or 224 at the bus stop at the station for the pleasures of serendipitous everyday travel- sometimes through sv road, sometimes charkop's residential areas- the old charkop road sometimes combinations of the three.
The newer buses run on the new roads cut through old familiar neighbourhoods, laying their hidden secrets bare, in the white and empty morning light- too early for the rush and clog of the traffic.
And the height of the bus window in a single decker is just perfect, bringing you in the perfect vantage of voyeur,( especially on s.v. road) sometimes a glance looks straight back at you, but mostly it is a pleasurable condescending stare of a city letch- looking down the cleavage of the old city road, its pretty bungalows, its messy markets from a lofty place behind benign red metal walls, the windows down to keep out the morning chill.
sections cut through the city every morning- pushing through- the wood market at jogeshwari and tempting open to eye restaurant insides, past Malcolm baugs old world mysteries, new monster towers, etc etc etc