The Misunderstood Hazard Light Switch

As I kid, I always found the hazard light switch fascinating. Anyone who is well versed with handling a floppy drive will remember a tiny orange coloured switch, peeping out from the dashboard, pestering you to have a go at it.

It was always left alone; the steering wheel and its cronies got all the attention. It was always ready; like the firefighter who awaits the event of a burning house to perform his duty. It was supposed to be a guardian when all things failed. It was him you relied on to save your car's behind from the immense momentum of a truck armed to the teeth with gas cylinders.

Times change; the floppy drive is no more and the hazard light switch has been extremely busy. Indian traffic has always been dangerous according to people who aren't from India. If they had their way, they'd drive around with the hazard lights on all the time.

We've found some unique uses for the hazard light switch. Somewhere down the line, people used the switch and realized that it turns both the indicators on. Some people interpret this to their advantage and use it to indicate that they're going straight. Which I find mildly amusing. What would they do if they wanted to go straight in a line, backwards? I guess the 8-bit musical melody is indicative of that scenario, when used along with the hazard lights.

Bangalore has many narrow streets and limited space for parking. Another scenario where our protector is called upon is when there's no space to park. The owner of the car would like to pick up some donuts or diapers, which is obviously a huge emergency. I saw this live the other day; a grown 40 year old man was guiding traffic past his inappropriately parked car and he had the look of satisfaction that I've only seen on Tendulkar's face after he scores a century. All because the hazard lights were on; for it's the modern day Father who forgives you for all your sins.

It seems to me that turning the hazard light switch on is equivalent to doing the entire society a huge favour. Apart from letting others know that you're a hazard to the world, you're also showcasing your ineptitude so that future mothers stay away from you and your genes aren't propagated further. If the Fuhrer was alive he'd send the gestapo to come pick you up for a little discussion. They'd arrive with their hazard lights on, of course.

The protector has now degenerated into a massive being at the center of the dashboard. He has now become the equivalent of a buzzer on a reality show. Papa taps on it when he spills coffee, Momma calls on him when she needs a pair of tissues. All the kids ever ask is, "What does this button do?".

All he really wants is to be away from the paparazzi and to be called on when the circumstances are dire. And he cries every night, wishing that people would see him for who he actually is.

Vandals In Uniform

I moved to a new locality a couple of weeks back. My house is in a lane which is quite narrow and since it's in  bang in the middle of town, it's a one way. It's not uncommon for people to park their vehicles in this lane as the locality I live in is a commercial zone. One would assume that it's absolutely fine to park my bike opposite my house.

Since my bike was parked and not attended to for a few days, it attracted the attention of the local police. They seemed very interested in my bike last night and I gave them the benefit of the doubt. Police constables are not paid well and it's quite alright for them to look at my bike and fiddle with it; hoping that they'll own one someday.

This morning, I woke up to a cop examining my motorcycle like he'd discovered a new species of a frog. I asked him what the matter was, and he politely asked me to park my vehicle inside the house compound. He said that his boss was about to pay a visit to the area. It seems like a fair request and I did so. And that's when things started to flare up a bit, for me at least.

I discovered that both my tires were flat. I've owned this bike for a couple of years; it's never given up on me. Even when it has given up on me, it was entirely my fault. That got me thinking. I have a sneaky feeling that a couple of jobless, incompetent nitwits deflated my tires to send a message across.

I consider myself lucky. I know a friend who got into a fight with an autowallah with a meter that ran faster than Usain Bolt. The cops promptly took him to the police station and threatened to throw him in the lockup as he was tipsy and apparently, was on the wrong side of the law. I don't see why or how. He did the right thing by taking an auto. I believe punching a cheat is against the law. So is punching a cop, but there's room for interpretation.

 I have absolutely no evidence about who deflated my tires. But then, there's no evidence about a lot of scams that surface every now and then.

I could have tried to get even with them, but then I had an epiphany. I don't need to do much. Inefficient idiots just sit around and grow potbellies expecting things to be handed to them in a silver platter. Efficient people move on to greener pastures and flourish. And that's why I consider myself lucky.

I consider myself lucky because I've been blessed with an intellect that allows me to earn a living and live a life without going about deflating tires or threatening people with jail time just because they're drunk. Or sending people home at 10 PM just because they cannot control crime. I'd rather give them the pleasure of deflating my tires; it's like handing a kid a lollipop while I gobble down a triple sundae topped with silver vark and the most exquisite dry fruits. 

Funny Indian Signs: Never follow a Tsunami

The last time a tsunami struck India, there were many deaths. "Do not falow me, I am sunami", says the sign on the tailgate. I have to agree with him. I shall explain why.

Take a look at the spare tyre and you will notice that there is no tread on three fourths of the surface of the tyre. The rest of the tyres may be in a similar state and chances are that the truck will not be able to stop in time, in the case of an emergency. Every vehicle on Indian roads needs a functioning, loud horn; I'm sure this vehicle has one too. The people in front of this truck are quite safe, that's for sure.

Look closer and you will notice that only one brake light functions properly. India has bright sunny skies. A person in a vehicle following this truck may not notice that it is about to plough into something massive; another truck perhaps.

Hence the sign, cautioning you to stay away from it. Because the truck is massive and it almost certainly can't be stopped in time. Needless to say, I didn't take a chance. I overtook this truck and rocketed away like Batman on his Batcycle.

The Hutch Dog

I feel like the kid from the Hutch advert. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about check this video out.

The kid is followed by the Hutch dog everywhere he goes. It was supposed to depict the quality of Hutch's mobile phone network. I'm in a similar situation, except that the metaphorical dog is a set of speedhumps.

They seem to follow me wherever I go. About ten years ago, the neighborhood I grew up in had excellent roads. Tight, twisting corners and slopes made it extremely fun to ride around that neighborhood  There were a combination of fast straights and fast corners. There were some slow corners where you could test and develop your skills. It is a different matter that I was on a puny 60cc moped, but these roads encouraged me to ride. All that you see now are badly designed speedhumps in all the sweet spots.

My family moved to another area about three years ago. Times changed, the moped was replaced by a faster motorbike. An army cantonment surrounds the new location my family moved to. The roads in these cantonments are very well designed. Probably to keep the skills of the officers and soldiers sharp during times of peace. I remember fast sections peppered with fast turns which helped me build up speed, at the end of which was a corner where I had to brake really hard to achieve a fast exit.

These people went a step further; the entire section is closed to the public. All you have now is a set of boring straights with many speedhumps to brighten your day.

Due to reasons not involving speedhumps, I moved to another city. The complex I stay in had really good sections, until yesterday. Technology has advanced and so has speedhump technology. They come in prefabricated sections, which only need to be screwed into place.

There is a massive problem with this approach. One can't erect speedhumps everywhere. If people have the right to raise children who will turn into rapists, people do have a right to go fast. One may argue that not all children will turn into rapists; and I have a similar counter-argument. Not all people who ride fast are dangerous. Some of them actually know what they're doing.

Do you see a problem with the approach we have? Let me elaborate.

There is a place for all children who turn into rapists: the hangman's noose. Do we have a place for people who can and want to go fast? It turns out that there are 1336 jails in India. How many tracks do we have where people can have fun? Coimbatore has one, Chennai has one and the F1 track in New Delhi is out of the common man's reach. There are other test tracks that motor companies have for their official use, but they are never thrown open to the public.

What we need is a set of race tracks where people can bring their vehicles along and go around the track for a fee; as long as they have the right safety gear and motor insurance. Run off areas will prevent any cornering mishaps from escalating into deaths, and that way we can have our fun while the general public raises potential rapists.

This idea has many benefits. It will encourage Motorsport in India. The added advantage is that people can satisfy their need for speed in controlled conditions, and it makes it less dangerous for riders/drivers. The icing on the cake is that people can continue strolling potential rapists in their hi-tech prams, without worrying about a maniac on a motorcycle.

The advantage of getting our asses kicked

India lost to England and there's been much hullabaloo about it. I think it did India, Cricket and the whole world a lot of good. Getting your ass kicked is a necessary and an essential part of your life. Without an ass kicking, you'd grow up to be a Kim Kardashian. She's had her ass "kicked" on camera, but it's not quite what you'd imagine.

Think Germany and Japan. The Germans and the Japanese build very good cars, and that's partly because of the huge ass kicking they got from the Allied Forces. Losing a war can force you to look for success in other avenues, and that's what these chaps did. They turned all their arms and ammunition factories into productive things. They now build cars and motorcycles, and they're pretty good at it.

I'm a huge fan of cricket, and it breaks my heart to admit that football is a much better sport. The reason football connects with people is that you don't need much investment to play the game. The game is short, exciting and it doesn't depend on the pitch at all. The game is simple in its objective, but the strategies are pretty complex. 

Cricket has been on a downward spiral ever since India won the world cup in 1983. The folks in the ICC realized there's plenty of money to be made from a country with more than a half a billion people. The worst thing BCCI ever did is get politics involved. Once you get politics involved in a sport, it's all about money and never the game. 

Over the years, pitches were reduced to flat batting tracks. The pitch at Sharjah shines brighter than Sivamani's freshly waxed head. It isn't a contest between the bat and the ball anymore, it's all about runs and batting. I seriously miss Courtney Walsh, Curtly Ambrose, Wasim Akram, Waqar Younis, Chaminda Vaas and all other bowlers who made my childhood memorable. I didn't realize it then, but these folks were the chaps who made cricket enjoyable. Good bowlers and the occasional character like Inzamam-Ul-Haq.

This whole series was being portrayed by the media, shamelessly, as the revenge series. Someone realized that we aren't going to produce a result on flat batting tracks, and our folks demanded a vicious pitch. As far as I know, no other sport allows anyone to dictate the playing conditions. We got what we wanted and also what we deserved: a massive bollocking. 

With our loss to England, it's become interesting again. It means that India can lose at home, and that we need to play well to win. It's restored the suspense and the drama. 

I hope the BCCI gets the politics out of the game. Or what they would've done over the course of twenty years is bajaaoed Cricket's pungi.

Classes of People on Indian Roads

Indian roads are very thrilling. There's never a dull moment. Imagine a roller coaster on an amusement park; the thrill is ten times that. You get to meet interesting types of people along the way; I shall list and describe a few of them. They may be riding a bike or driving a car or just passing by on foot, but you do find them gamboling around.

1. The Cockblocker

These chaps are usually, but not necessarily found in massive SUVs and Trucks. They know they can't fit into a gap as wide as an autorickshaw and they don't care. If they cant have that space, you can't have it. Yes, you have been cockblocked.

2. The Mosquito

At the other end of the spectrum, you have people who think they can fit into any gap. Much like a mosquito, they tend to honk unnecessarily when they can clearly see that there's no space at all. They're more annoying than the cockblockers, and I wish they meet the fate similar to that of a mosquito: squished under a massive tyre.

3. Mr. Late and Confused

These people are quite easy to spot. One usually finds them in the right lane indicating left or vice-versa.  They also have this habit of sitting in the fast lane. I forgive them because there is no concept of a fast lane in India. It is an unwritten rule that you can drive at 20 kmph in the fast lane, as long as you dont block the slow, left lane. You see why Indian roads are so much fun. We're a mixed breed of the UK and the USA. Isn't that awesome?

4. The Subconsciously Suicidal Chaps

They're magicians. They appear in front of you without any notice, from nowhere. They probably don't want to die. I think that their sub-conscious is quite sick of leading the life that they lead. They'd rather spend time texting on a phone while crossing a road, because life isn't that important. Reading that brilliant forward about Sonia Gandhi and Manmohan Singh is number one priority.

5.  The Edgy Ones

A gentle touch to their car's bumper and you'll never hear the end of it. They've got to realize that a bumper's called a bumper for a very good reason. It's made of plastic and as long as someone doesn't rear-end you quite badly, I don't see what the problem is. They've got to chill out, because life isn't worth worrying about bumpers. Worry about your teenage son instead, you fool.

Wildlife in the Concrete Jungle - I

Automobiles have character. They are living beings and I believe that no two automobiles are alike; even if you're talking about identical models. A lot depends how they're raised, and circumstances and events that influenced their thought. Much like humans and other animals.

I like to visualize automobiles as animals. I shall list out a few and explain why I think they resemble that species.

1. Hyundai i10

 The only good thing about the i10 is its size. It is extremely tiny; as a result, it is extremely quick through narrow lanes. Other animals that are tiny and quick include squirrels and cats, but the i10 is certainly a rat. You're never overjoyed when you spot a rat. Nothing provokes you to go ahead and make it your pet or even wish you encounter another one in your life. I'd avoid this car like the plague.

2. Mahindra XUV 500

Mahindra claims that this vehicle is inspired by the cheetah. The folks at Mahindra have very good reasons too. A W8/W12 turbocharged engine producing an extra large serving of torque and power can make people assume that it is a cheetah. Nothing can be farther from the truth.

The XUV is a European Common Cuckoo. European common cuckoos lay their eggs in other birds' nests, and they're raised by sparrows which think that they're some genetic mutation of themselves. The XUV is an impostor. It wouldn't be an impostor had Mahindra used some other name to sell it. Someone at marketing probably suggested that the eXtreme Utility Vehicle acronym would be a very good idea. I went for a ride in a friend's car, and the only thing that makes it "extreme" enough to handle the Indian roads is a massive ground clearance. The suspension is softer than a new born baby's bum, and it rolls around like a drunk whale. Yeah, it has all the toys you'd want but that doesn't make it a SUV. It is a bloated city car, that's about it.

Don't be fooled, my friends. It is a cuckoo; it wants you to think that it is a sparrow.


3. Suzuki WagonR

The Maruti WagonR is a whale. I have had the fortune of driving a WagonR more than once. A friend owns one and we rented one out in Goa.

The WagonR, like a whale, has a massive belly. The WagonR also has the body roll of a whale. It doesn't want to go too fast, hates aggressive downshifts. All it wants to do is carry two adults and three kids peacefully.

If you fold the rear seats of a WagonR, there's space for at least one pregnant cow. I assume that there's space for at least one pregnant cow in a whale's tummy too.

 4. Volvo B7R

Isn't it obvious? Long chassis, a huge separation between wheels and a low center of gravity. Bangalore's Volvos are Dachshunds.

I grew up around Dachshunds, and they're surprisingly quick. One of them always rotated it's tail when it was going fast, and they can go around corners quite well too.

5. Maruti 800

The Maruti 800 is a lovable street dog. I never thought belting a puny 800 cc engine would be so much fun. The 800 isn't the show-dog German Shepherd or the supermodel Golden Retriever. It is a street dog, which can weather hard times quite easily. The 800 is by far the most common car in India, and you wouldn't have to go too far to get one fixed, in case it breaks down.

It makes you feel like you're connected to the road, and almost every pothole is like reading braille, but in a very good way. I never thought I'd love a Maruti 800, but I'm as surprised as you are.

Friday Night's Drinkin' to: Crazy Penis

I know what you are thinking. No, I didn't spend a whole night googling the words Crazy and Penis. Last.fm recommended this to me, and I'm the sort of guy who thinks Crazy Penis is an interesting name for a music artist; and that's how it started.

I'm also a basshead. Drum and Bass are like glue. They hold a song together and I think it's very important for these two elements to gel well. I like to visualize it like this: if you can imagine the Drum beat to be the vertebrae, the bass is the cartilage and all the tissue that holds the vertebrae together. Put together, they form the spine and all other elements rest on this foundation.

The two tracks that I'm going to recommend today have basslines which are very well thought out. If you find yourself grooving to these tracks and moving your booty; don't worry, it's only natural. A good bassline makes a track a million times better.

This whole return-to-bass mood of mine was triggered by a chap called Leslie Charles, who happens to be a bassist for the Technicolor Funk Brigade. I'm also told that he plays for the Leslie Charles trio. This chap is quite the rabid dog when it comes to the bass.

Your average bassist is like the guy with the unusual tattoos in the porno movies, who likes to squish and crush breasts to death. Leslie Charles is the gigolo that lonely women would hire just because he has the ability to play with five sets of nipples whilst sipping on gin and tonic. Leslie Charles; if you're reading this, I know I called you a gigolo, but I mean that with all the respect in the world.

Cheers!

Artist: Crazy Penis
Track: Starwar
Album: A Nice Hot Bath With

Artist: Crazy Penis
Track: Smoothin' Groovin'
Album: A Nice Hot Bath With

Why Bangalore's Roads Shouldn't Be Widened

I was born and brought up in Hyderabad. We were in Bangalore when I was an infant, and I hear that Bangalore was a very different city then. It had many more trees, cooler weather, and the IT boom didn’t hit Bangalore yet. It was still called Bangalore.

Why change the name of a city? People need to throw away perfectly fine letterheads, repaint the display boards outside their businesses. It’s just a waste of resources. This simple change from Bangalore to Bengaluru, for political reasons, would have cost the country at least 10 crore Rupees. I’m sure that this is a very conservative estimate.  

Why am I surprised? We are ruled by idiots who’d like to spend 17 Crores all over the state on Jalabhishekams and Jalayagnas (prayers for rain). Seventeen Crores from the taxpayer’s money!  I’m okay with people praying to the gods, people do have a right to believe in god, and I don’t question that. I feel that the taxpayer’s money should be utilized properly; drought relief would be a very good idea. Rain dances and prayers do not justify an expenditure of INR 17 Crore from the public exchequer.

Prayers are not going to help, because god has forsaken us a long time ago. Bangalore shot itself in the face about ten years back, when the IT boom occurred. Improper planning has resulted in high population density, and a loss of tree cover. My grandfather told me that back in his days, when he was posted in Bangalore as an IAF officer, Bangalore had the status of a “non-fan city”. This meant that officers were not entitled to ceiling fans in their quarters. The weather was so cool in the 1950s, that during the rains, they’d need blankets at night. He also told me that Bangalore started getting warm around 1955, and that’s when he went and bought a table fan for the house. That’s all they needed. Just one fan, for the entire house.

I remember how Bangalore was in 1999-2000. It was not as populated, there were fewer high rises, and many more trees and lakes. I believe that the rapid expansion of Bangalore is what ruined it; the city didn’t have any place to expand at all. The Ring road is usually a road that circles the city, but by the time namma brilliant Civic Authorities finished it, the ring road was just like any other road with serpentine traffic. 

How did they solve this problem? They decided to lay another road, and these creative geniuses called it the Outer Ring Road. Flyovers are still being built today as an upgrade for a road which is too narrow for the amount of traffic it’s fed. It’s an upgrade to a problem that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.  

There’s an Outer-Outer Ring Road, which is called NICE road (yes, that’s an abbreviation), which now circles the outskirts of Bangalore. By the time the NICE road is finished, they’ll need to lay another road around it, and soon, Bangalore will start resembling an atom. A dense nucleus made of atomic particles, with orbits around the nucleus in which the electrons exist. 

I see examples of such myopic vision all over the place. The Bengaluru International Airport is a fine example. They decided to build it a few light years away from Bangalore, and then, just for kicks, they decided that the airport only needed to be as big as an anthill. Take a flight during peak hours, and it will resemble a termite colony. I once flew down from Hyderabad to Bangalore, and it took me 7 hours, door-to-door.

I’ve worked out that it’s faster to drive to Hyderabad, than take the 10 AM flight to Hyderabad. The car needs to be powerful enough. If you think that I’m wrong, I’m up for testing my theory. If you have a sedan which has more than 150 horsepower, please book a 10 AM flight to Hyderabad, leave your luggage with me, and I shall meet you in Hyderabad.  I reckon that to avoid the unpredictable traffic, you’ll need to leave your home early in the morning and the check in takes a really long time.  It will be interesting to see who wins. I should warn you that the Hyderabad – Bangalore highway is like one of Sharapova’s legs. Long and smooth.

Talking about highways and roads, I always thought Bangalore’s narrow roads were a disadvantage. Until I went through the horror of driving down the Old Madras road during peak hours, that’s when I had this profound realization. Something that made me dive deep into the way we think and how we’re wired.

Indians are chaotic. We were never meant to be one country, we’ve always fought against each other, and we’ve always had differences. It was the British rule that brought us together, and we still find it difficult to inculcate discipline into ourselves. The Bangalore roads have instilled discipline into people (as compared to Hyderabad), because there’s always a fear of being run over by a monstrous truck if you cut lanes without checking the rearview mirrors. Or, if you turn without your indicators on. If you compare the roads to Hyderabad, the roads in Bangalore offer much less room for error.

In Hyderabad, you tailgate the vehicle in front of you, and if the vehicle in front of you moves left, you follow with the same maneuver. This is a beautiful phenomenon, where you know that the person has cut left because he’s spotted an Auto or a cyclist in the fast lane. It’s all intuition and anticipation. Here’s another example. There’s all the space that one would want, but why would that Innova in front of you cut left? If there’s no traffic around that Innova, this could only mean that he’s centering a pothole. You then follow up by sticking to the side of the car (if you’re on a motorcycle), so that you end up avoiding the pothole.

Bangalore traffic lacks this sense of brotherhood. Everyone’s tolerating each other and being careful because there’s no room for error; there’s just no space. But once you let them loose onto a wide road like the Old Madras Road or the Outer Ring Road, it’s just pure madness. Think of it this way; what would happen if you break open the gates of a Zoo and set all the animals free? Pure chaos.  Or what would happen if the Tihar Jail’s walls collapsed. We’d have rapists, murderers, a few politicians and other criminals all over the place. A very unpleasant sight indeed.

Yes, I agree that Hyderabad’s traffic is way more chaotic, but drive around in Hyderabad and you’ll understand that the wide roads there create opportunity for sharing space. Like I said, you start “understanding” the traffic, and it’s the same whether you’re on a narrow road or a wide road. There’s this mutual understanding between motorists. It doesn’t matter if I am on the wrong side of the road, they’ll always share their side of the road with you. And pass funny comments like “Rocket mein paida hua kya?”, if you’re going way too fast.

But let a Bangalorean out on to a wide road, and he’ll behave like a dog let loose. He’ll sniff every single part of the road and mark his territory even though another dog will come along and piss all over it anyway. Bangalorean traffic needs to be leashed. It only works well on narrow roads. Just like Huskies, which work well when you tie them up together and force them to work together. It just doesn’t work otherwise.

You may wonder what the solution to this problem is. Isn’t it obvious? We need Namma Metro to be up and running as soon as possible. We need to get all the people off the roads, and into safer places like trains running over our heads.  That way, they’re packed into a tiny box running on a track above the roads, where they’ll have to tolerate each other because of the order which has been forced upon them. Like liquid helium, which has very low entropy.

One Floor Down

Today, I was waiting for an elevator, and I met this family of four, two kids and the parents, of course. All four had all limbs functioning, they didn't seem retarded (on second thoughts, maybe they are), they weren't old, and their kids seemed loud and annoying. Most kids are annoying, and I am willing to let that go. But what pisses me off is them calling for a lift to go down one floor. Just one.

You may wonder which floor we were on. We were on the ground floor, and these chaps needed to go down to the basement to get into their car and continue with their sedentary, pointless lives. I can understand if you want to go down, lets say, more than 2 floors, depending on how old you are. Senior citizens are free to decide if they would like an elevator to go down one floor, but unless you are handicapped, you have no excuse. You are just a lazy bum.

Isn't it faster than waiting for the lift? Can't they just climb down rather than wait for the elevator. That's five minutes saved, right there. Let us assume that they had enough time, and that they weren't in a hurry. Can't they support their own weight, while mother Earth does all the work for them? If they can't do that, they shouldn't exist. People like these should jump off a building and kill themselves. They can savour the last few moments where they do not have to support their own weight, before they do mankind a favour and wipe themselves off the face of this planet.

And what about the kids? What are they teaching them? That it's okay to be sedentary and not move their lazy butts? This is what technology has done to some people. They don't know how to use technology to their favour and when to ignore it and be a mammal. Our forefathers walked more than five kilometers a day in search of food, and this is why we still exist. If they hadn't done that, we'd be extinct.

We've got water shortage, we're screwing around with the environment, and we're being unhealthy. The rate at which we're going, we'll all be extinct before 3000 AD. Or before that. Only time will tell.

Of Buffalo and BMWs

This is an article I wrote a few months ago. I thought that I should repost it here and make it public.

The law of averages is tough on you at times. Just when you're cruising, happy about the fact that it's been calm the last six months (touchwood), it dictates that you're in for a day of close misses. It also suggests that there are some creatures lurking around the corner.

A big wide road, first out of the signal. Happy and cruising like an eagle. I see a pedestrian walk across the road. Normally, it isn't anything to be worried about. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a lady dressed in pink. You see, men always have a sense of fright while crossing the roads; because most of the people driving are men, and a majority of them are straight. I've observed that there's a difference between men and women in how they cross the road.

Sometimes, the women are a godsend. They're the smart ones, who look the right way while crossing the road, and maintain eye contact with oncoming vehicles. Then, there are the ones who're too scared, they're okay most of the times. They think twice before crossing across an old scooter; which means that it's unlikely that they'll try their luck.

It is their lucky day though, because I'm in the saddle. Unfortunately, it wasn't one of them either. This one was dreaming, and almost doing the Paris fashion week walk, expecting everyone to stop on a 3 lane road, when the signal's just gone green. The worst part was when she realized it wasn't working and froze in front of me and then walked across with an air of pride. Yes, you can read that again. As unbelievable as that sounds, she did continue walking across. I braked a bit, and had to swerve to the right; narrowly missing another chap. Surprisingly, there were no Hyderabadi expletives being yelled at me. I guess he just felt sorry for me. And it wasn't an easy miss, trust me.

The next one involved a bond impersonator in a not-so-swift Swift. He wanted to overtake a slow moving truck on a flyover. I can imagine this happening after 12 midnight, when the traffic's thin; I think it's a high risk at all times, and use that overtaking maneuver sparingly. The flyover is one and a half laned on either side. I wonder how he wanted to get a car through a 3 foot gap (to the left of the truck); and it didn't look like he was casually snaking around. This was a serious, "will it go through?", try. Five repetitive, exponentially increasing horn lengths later, I went through. The last time I saw this happen was in a Bond movie, and they goofed up in that case too.

Observation and experience tells me that of all the things on the roads in my country, Buffalo and BMWs are the easiest things to negotiate. Buffalo are easy to go around. They seldom walk backwards, so you just have to swerve towards its rear. BMWs are mostly being driven around very carefully by chauffeurs, to an office or back home. I even saw a politician being driven around in a Jaguar XF.

And that is what pisses me off the most. No, not BMWs being chauffeur driven. Well, a little i guess; but not enough to get all worked up about. It's those politicians in green Jaguar XFs.