the Bus Driver

After minutes of waiting the bus came. I got in and there were no seats so I stood right behind the driver. The driver's face I could see in the mirror was different from the photo on the license pasted on the bus above his head. He looked much younger in the photo. There was a hand written piece of paper pasted above the front glass showing 12 percent of fare increased. I asked the driver that if the raise is a general fare increase or only this line added to its services. He said; "No, Only long routes." And continued: "this fare raise was planned months ago but there was a halt for [presidential] elections, and the aftermath unrest, until last Thursday, we were told to imply the raise". I think he really needed to talk, because usually this folks do not enter such conversations, but he continued. "People have hard time. I myself fail to pay 4 of my loan payments". "What payments"? I asked. He answered, "3, 5 years ago I was dismissed of my former workplace and got this bus by installments. And now there is no liquid Gas for this kind of vehicle, only very few left working in Tehran". "Why", I asked. Because the gas installations are from the Germany and France, since we are under sanctions and we do not have enough equipment, so the government has to get spare parts from the other installations". To find out if I got it correctly I said; "You mean the existing installations are working on the price of closing others."Yes" he replied and added;" I have to commute a long way to the gas station. I wake up 04:30 and go home midnight. My colleague who had no fuel wanted me to trail him to the station yesterday, on the way he could not control his bus and bumped into my bus. The back glass broke; its price is 200,000 Tuman [$200]. I went home last night and was deeply depressed. My four-year-old wanted to have fun with me; I pushed him aside his face hit the frame of the door, he fainted and his chick got swollen. The whole family including my father began to scold me for that. Then I found a place to be alone and cried". I was now next to him and this time I looked at him directly instead of through mirror, his face crumpled and I was not brave enough to continue watching him break. I already was there in my destination but I was in state of shock and could not move.
Walking to office, workers were rebuilding the pavement in the park, which was no longer charming to me. New buildings were rising up and printing money for their owners around the street. The face of the bus driver was in my mind. I felt I was nothing. I could not do anything, nothing.