One for the road

One for the road

Can you compare my category of people with the supporting dancers in a Bollywood item song? No, they are energetic and dressed (in)appropriately. We, on the other hand, must be mere supporting actors to achievers on this planet. We exist, living quiet, dull lives while the history-makers do things. They love excitement and adventure and are not averse to taking a few risks to make life spicy. They do not join the army, for wars are few and far between nowadays. They go out for adventure sports and the like. Their existence is punctuated with thrill, enthusiasm, positivity, and excitement. Their names flash in news in electronic and print media, even if posthumously.

Imagine yourself merrily enjoying the breeze and dull sunlight (there is a haze due to pollution) on your face riding your two-wheeler or sitting in your car, humming along with music, or enjoying a conversation with your fellow passenger, as you drive on the road. The time ticker on the traffic light changes, the light turns red, you brake, stop, look around at the people in or on other vehicles, judge or ignore them, make mental notes, smile, smirk or raise your eyebrows and as the light turns yellow and then green, continue in your lane (If there are any) along the road like a law-abiding citizen.

 Can be seen in any busy marketplace in any city of India 

Yet, sometimes, moving on the road or standing still at the light comes somebody else who has chosen that day to test his/her risk-taking capability. He/she tries to edge into the narrow space between two vehicles, scratches yours and tries to swirl further and further into the gap getting narrower towards the front. You feel the bump and hear the screech of metal rubbing against metal, and there goes your peace of mind.

Is there a scratch or worse, a dent? Has he/she broken something? If there is time, you shut the engine, get down or out to inspect. If you are lucky, there is not much to cry about. Depending on the damage caused you refresh your curse lexicon, and demand an answer, i.e., if the other driver is foolish enough to be around after this close brush of iron sheets.

In bigger meetings of metal, an argument/quarrel ensues. Such exchanges can include questions ranging from a mildly irritated dikhai nahin deta (Can’t you see?) to a doubt on their knowledge of road rules, questions about their parents and social status, exchange of blame etc., to demanding that they pay the damages or taking a photo of the damage and planning to slap it on the insurance firm to further challenge the latter’s skills at avoiding payments. The volume of the voices goes up and sometimes kind people on the road try to resolve the issue by stopping all traffic coming from behind. If the policeman is there and he comes, believe me, that is a whole different ballgame altogether, and naturally beyond how much you can handle today.

Remember ‘if Ram crosses a distance of ten meters in two minutes, how much distance can he cover in seven seconds’, kind of sums you did not pay attention to in school? They mock you daily with these descending numbers on the traffic lights. And often poor calculations or wrong time management cause what in simple English is called an accident or a collision.  

Issued by the Ministry of Transport, Government of India

A higher level of touchy feely of vehicles may cause the drivers’ pulse rate to increase. You may feel a pounding in your temples, breathing getting shallow and faster, sweaty palms and a pit in your stomach. Aren’t these signs of excitement?

Sometimes a more forceful high five of two vehicles may cause enough noise to startle other drivers, one or both vehicles to swerve, roll over or crash into the passersby/other vehicles going about their business innocently on the road/road dividers so laboriously painted when they did not need to, or in very extreme cases, launch into air and land at some place not charted in the direction the road is leading to.

This is the time we should all observe a minute’s silence to mourn the death of the rich heritage of Ganit gyan (knowledge of mathematics) taught by our ancient gurus and mathematicians. The driver could not calculate the ratio between a few seconds of hurry and several months or the rest of their lives staring at boring ceiling in hospital or nursing home.

But look at the sacrificing spirit of these adventures-seekers for they keep thousands and thousands of hospitals/nursing homes, caregiving agencies or pharmaceutical companies in business which employ a few million employees and help the nation’s economy.

Those riding motorcycles and scooters without helmets are also included among such bravehearts. Their love for fresh air (This morning the  AQI in Lucknow is a maximum of 384) and preservation of their lovingly crafted hairdos or polished shiny bald scalps, as their machines make puttering noises on the tarred stretches, far outweighs the importance of the matter inside their cranial boxes.

Some adventure-seekers plan to instill a sense of adventure and fundamental right to freedom of movement among their children right from a very young age. They make them sit behind them on a two-wheeler with their tiny arms unable to measure the full girth of the parents’ growing waists.

Car seats are unheard of in India. So, most car-owners like to have their children sit in the front seat of their car alone or in somebody’s lap ‘where they can watch them.’ Unless the child tends to doze in a moving vehicle, he/she finds it difficult to sit still. That is the little one’s time to wonder at how big the world is, look around, smile, frown, wave or stick tongue out at the people in the vehicles passing by. And the trained ones start moving in the moving vehicle. They try to lift themselves up, stand, move between front and back seats, most of the times nudging the driver in the process as there is very little room to manouvre between the two front seats. This not only tests the strength of their love and affection for each other but also causes as much commotion inside the vehicle as there is in the world outside. Meanwhile, unless you plan to have a late night anyway, do not even imagine a child dozing while riding pillion.

No wonder, racing car drivers are beyond the scope of my comprehension. I see fully-grown men (or women) trapping themselves into a tiny cubbyhole of metal and fibre and whirring wildly along a sharp curve like a test tube in a centrifugal machine. All for money, I am told. Of course, thousands pay to sadistically watch such displays of bravado.

Some people are, however, not adventurous. They simply feel constricted in using seat belts. For a small dose of freedom within the capsule, they do away with these contraptions. In a case of hit and bump, they go face down bowing before the plastic idol of flying Hanumanji hanging from a thin thread from the mirror or some other god’s three-inch idol plastered on the dashboard. They may end with a cut lip, loss of a tooth or two or a bruised nose, but that is nothing in proportion to what great activists for freedom had sacrificed.

Some others are considerate. They try to talk to the others through their horns. They honk to - question, warn, express their irritation. Or the others who love cleanliness so much that they throw out of the window, wrappers, peels and sundry items not needed within the confines of their prize soap case (read car).

Braver are those drivers who have so much control over the steering wheel that they can open the door of their moving vehicle, stick their head out, bend and spit the betel juice out on the road, slam the door shut and wipe their mouths with the back of their palms and drive on as if they were Lord Krishna himself charioteering Arjuna’s rath. 

For me any time in a car is my conversation time with God. I seek divine assistance for answers to Hey bhagwan, yeh kya kar raha hai (O God, what is he doing), yeh ab kahan mudega (where will the vehicle moving ahead turn), signal dega (will he use the indicator to warn) or will he be able to finish his lifelong shopping from the hawkers on the roundabout selling ear buds/paper napkins/ball pens/dusters/plastic birds and scores of other things, before the red digits turn into green?

My level of adventure! I crossed the main road on foot today. What excitement!  It is another matter that there were three policemen standing and chatting this side of the road, one home guard was signalling to ensure that the drivers followed the lights, the light was red and the zebra lines free for me to walk.

                                                                                              - Anupama S Mani