Road Rage
Nimi Kurian
16 May 2008, 08:01She wore her dark glasses, carried her handbag and laptop and got into the car. She switched off her mobile phone. She didn’t want anyone calling her while she was driving. She was a stickler for road rules.
She got into her car and drove out of the gate. The watchman was drinking his morning’s cup of tea. So he didn’t bother to watch whether it was safe for her to come onto the road. She turned right at the gate, slowed down and unwinding the window shouted at the watchman.
“Just what do you think you are doing? Can’t you watch the road? What if another car had come by? He would not have seen me!”
“Sorry madam. It’s my tea time!” said an unapologetic watchman.
“Idiotic man!” she mumbled angrily as she sped away.
At the next corner, she diligently kept to the left and then turned. The tourist car ahead of her cut to the right and took a sharp curve.
“Men! Never keep traffic rules,” she muttered.
Just as she was turning, a bike came in from the left and almost crashed into her car. She braked hard, put her head out of the window and shouted.
“Stupid ignorant man! Can’t you follow traffic rules?”
“Why can’t you watch where you are going?” he shouted back.
“Hello! I was following traffic rules. Don’t teach me what to do! You were in the wrong. Admit it and learn to drive more carefully. Try to use your brains, you stupid animal on wheels!”
The man shrugged and rode off.
The traffic only got more and more hap hazard. And Shruti just got more and more exasperated. She noticed that most often traffic offenders were men. And at the same time it was men who were quick to point out what bad drivers women were!
At one point she even caught a driver coming opposite ongoing traffic. He stopped in front of her expecting her to swerve and let him continue. Of course, Shruti didn’t budge. Finally after a futile wait he had to turn around, creating a jam and causing people to honk and swear. Bikers with sweat running down their faces abused. The searing sun did not help rising tempers.
Shruti was very angry. She hated it when people cut into her lane or edged her out of hers. She hated it when the big metropolitan buses just whizzed past regardless if there was place for them or not. She hated it when the bikes squeezed in between cars and tried to get ahead in the traffic lights. Oh! She was so filled with rage!
So when the light changed to green and slowly the traffic inched forward, she bull-dozed her way forward. She just wanted to get ahead. She wove her way through the mayhem just concentrating on the vehicles to the right and to the left. She had reached the traffic light. She was so engrossed in not letting anyone cut in front of her that she barely glanced up as the lights changed from amber to red.
And before she realised it she was out in the centre of the road – the only car there. She slowed, tried to stop but it was too late. Mortified, she found herself flagged down by the traffic constable. She was ushered to the side of the road and asked to park up. The constable came to the window and said, “Madam, bring your license and come and meet the sergeant.”
Totally humiliated, she got out of the car and carrying her driving license walked to the sergeant. He was intent on some serious writing.
He looked up and said, “What Madam? How can you cut the traffic light?”
“Sorry it was a mistake,” she managed to mumble. She was so embarassed by now as the lights had changed to green and the traffic had resumed. Everyone seemed to be looking out and laughing at her, she thought.
The sergeant wrote out the traffic challan. “Madam, we are fining you Rs. 100 for traffic violation.”
“Ok, I will get my purse from the car,” she said and walked back to the car. Vehicles still whizzed past. She was too nervous to look up lest she see someone who knew her. Head bend low she walked to the car and took out her handbag. Walking back, she pulled out her purse.
She opened the purse when she reached the sergeant. She looked inside and could find only notes of ruppees ten and twenty. She pulled them out and counted. All in all, she had eighty ruppees with her.
Her face red with shame she said, “Sir, I have only eighty ruppees with me!”
The sergeant could barely suppress a smile. His eyes twinkled. He didn’t say a word.
Shruti became frantic.
“Sir, I have only eighty ruppees, what do I do? What do I do?”
“What can I do, Madam? I will have to take the eighty ruppees.”
She gave him the money and got into her car and drove away.
Moral of the story. Never cut traffic lights. !!
— Jude · May 28, 10:19 · #