Even in the hinterland, morality was implausible. There can't be a moral act without a victim. I arrived late and missed my bus. I had to book the only available bus: a decrepit shell. I sat next to the driver as I hoped to catch the hinterland unawares...to see it naked... 
I had been informed that the bus was 'express-way'. "We don't pick or drop passengers on the road". So I forked out even more coins. But that was false. As soon as we were out of the city center, the driver stopped at every stage. I was angry but didn't tell my anger
When the bus was full, we set out earnestly. But soon, the driver stopped for a preacher who picked my spot to preach: "you don't know when you'll die. So many people have died. But you are still here..." He mentioned death so many times, I had to pay "tithe". I wanted him gone.
2 hrs into the journey, the driver & conductor differed, & mutually agreed to settle it with fists. Bus stopped, & they went outside. We had to separate them, because even though the driver was the loudest, he was the weakest. We needed a driver more than we needed a conductor.
By then I'd made up my mind to report them both. Because that is the moral thing to do. If I didn't report their (mis)conduct, that company would fall. Inevitably. Also, because they were wasting my time, & obviously stealing from their employer by picking passengers on the road.
But as we progressed further, I noted that the driver was mimicking the sound of changing gears on the bus: "Chfff! Chff". It was obvious he loved his job. Also, in all the stages he'd stopped, he'd been met with jubilation. He always gave a few coins too.
So I started engaging him: Born in extreme poverty; didn't go beyond class 8. He is the firstborn. He'd always wanted to be a driver. That was his dream, and here he was, in his dream, and there I was about to ruin it. For him, his family, all the men he'd sliced a few coins.
I questioned which would be the moral thing to do. If I reported the bus, the man would be sacked. But he loved his job, and he was good at it. And we laughed, and he was genuinely curious about things. In another life, he'd have made a great teacher. He had an endearing spirit
So yeah, I ended up picking (im)morality. I saved a man's job, but probably condemned that company to death. I even took his number, I encouraged corruption. Yet I didn't feel any guilt. If anything, I was overjoyed. Morality is a bog. There cannot be morality, only choices.
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