August 26, 2005


At least for now, life has transformed itself into pointless meetings, building lots of castles in the air and a whole lot of insane commuting. I was planning to write something substantial on Delhi traffic, only to realize later that it could be best summed up as something on these lines: An insane trapeze act between those who think a red light is NOT where you are supposed to stop your vehicle and those who think they should. Add to this a variety of extras like cows, artificial chicanes the police erect to check and control traffic, which have nothing by means of illumination on them, and an obsessive compulsion to honk where it is totally not needed and not honk when it is needed the most, and you will get the general picture.

The best supporting accolades go to the numerous bus drivers and call center cabbies who seem to have almost a divine inclination to see to it that you are either crushed under their wheels or run off into the nearest gutter/obstacles of a significant physical presence. If you want to have the 'born-again' experience, a few moments of quality time spent trying to dodge two competing DTC buses roaring up behind you is highly recommended. Once you have experienced it, life is never the same. It puts the fear of God, Satan and everything else in between into your mind.

A special mention must go the numerous Jat boys and the likes of Hunny Singh from the Malviya Nagar locality who seem to believe that by introducing a cheap, fake Ferrari sticker and car stereos that can take up the entire rear quarter of the car, their humble Maruti 800s will get transformed into something straight out of Maranello. Yes, that thumping noise you hear from a mile away is the aforesaid Mr Hunny on his evening cruise, make way please. Without all these great people and numerous others like the dhelawalas, tractors, the ever-so omnipresent and ever-so unpredictably swervy autowallahs, my daily 17 kilometers-a-side commute would be oh so uneventful. God bless them all.