Friday, June 17, 2016

A Sense of Direction

Guaranteed not in scope when you try crossing the intersection to work and home - the experience is nothing short of Conjuring 1 and 2. Motorcyclists are one of the worst lot (Mind you, I respect my fellow travelers as much as I am one of them two wheeler riders). 

They try and cram into every inch of space making it as claustrophobic as possible, heightening the adventure by scratching the sides of a few vehicles as they graze by, knocking off the side view mirror with their lack of skills and mostly, stupidity; rev up their engines and make a dash for it when the signal turns green, which is utter mayhem, almost like Encierro, the Running of the Bulls festival in Spain. Dangerous to themselves and everyone around them, the motor cyclists are unmanageable.

Everyday when I try to reverse my car from the parking lot to the road, I say a small prayer so I have the strength to silently fume and drive on without any morning skirmishes to rock the rest of the day. The two wheeler crowd that make up the maximum traffic on my stretch of the road, reward me with an incredulous look instead of giving me a little space to maneuver my vehicle. They either curse or whiz past on both sides leaving me and my tiny vehicle frozen until the air clears.

Today it just got worse. I forgot to pray. The usual route I towed had been modified to include a  divider of sorts, so when I turned I did not have enough passage to drive through it. With oncoming traffic and motorcyclists unwilling to help, I looked on helplessly until an auto-driver stepped in to make matters worse. His sense of direction was no where close and resulted in a nasty scratch on the right side of the car. An idiot two-wheeler rider who was kissing my car got stuck and I had to move forward to let him loose. Finally, another driver from the opposite side signed the direction to me, which finally made sense. 

I headed off in the direction of the tall buildings reminding of the long day ahead.

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