We are close to the end of the year. This is the time that you are supposed to be happy, and have to show it. So, you put on your best underwear, get into your car, and zoom around town from party to party.
It is also the time of the year when the fog comes down heavily, but that does not let the average Indian (or, Delhi-ite/Dilliwallah in this case) slow down the pace at which the car moves along the road.
We did have a 48 car pile up last week.
The roads in India are largely pot-holed. They are also peopled with cyclists, careless pedestrians, antiquated rickshaws and trucks, buses, pigs, cows; and an assortment of policemen scratching their balls while they watch the world go by.
So, you really cannot drive fast. However, to further slow you down, they add almost invisible speed breakers, and police barriers. Road rage piles up.
Oh yes – to add to the fun, people will go from the left (at a traffic signal) across to the right, and take a U-turn. They will also drive in the wrong direction.
What you have is a smorgasbord of assorted traffic mayhem all moving in a rapid Brownian motion. When the fog descends, then shit sometimes floats through the fog.
The question is – how do we cope? How do we get by?
A lot of people have these nippy little cars that swing through traffic, and teeter precariously on two wheels while the owner attempts something heroic.
Many more have these trucks. They are officially called SUVs, and the bigger the better. Sometimes people even wear sunglasses at night, to show that they belong. They belong. I don’t know what they belong to, but they belong. That is the operative verb.
There is something about this fuel guzzling SUV-Truck that transforms a paunchy, spindly legged Indian into a frothing maniac. You see them driving, looking around as they sail over the pot-holes and shove the other drivers aside.
You see them at the traffic light, champing at the bit, tooting their horn wondering at the temerity of a red light that has dared to stop their flight. Until, they decide to do away with the niceties of observing traffic rules and break them.
There is something about this SUV-truck that turns a mild mannered young girl into a snarling, frothing male like thing, albeit with breasts and the other anatomical features that are unique to women.
They too champ at the bit, at a red light. Or, they overtake you and look back at you with a sneer on their face as they talk on the mobile phone. They are possibly exchanging fashion tips at that point….
So, before I end the year with a “Happy New Year, y’all”, just remember that tomorrow, when you put on your best underwear – beware the wolf-man and the she-wolf behind the wheel of the SUV-truck…
And, before I end the year with a “Happy New Year, y’all”, just remember that tomorrow, when you put on your best underwear – beware the wolf-man and the she-wolf behind the wheel of the teetering, nippy little car as it whizzes by on two of it’s four wheels!