That is the chant the voice in my head repeats, in various
tones of frustration and helplessness, as I drive to and from work every day.
There is also the addition of expletives, the raising of the hand to point all
fingers at the offender in question and the deadly eye-to-eye stare that you
ensure you deliver with the look of a Bollywood mother-in-law.
The traffic’s gone bat-shit crazy, y’all. This is stating
the obvious to everyone who lives in Bangalore but let me do my thing to let
off ze steam, please? I often drive four hours a day, sometimes bumper to
bumper and sometimes bumper to just-missed-that-human.
Let me clarify that this isn’t a solution manual, primarily
because I have no solution to offer. Let me also state that I adore the
Bangalore I grew up in and I love its people too, but we can all agree
Bangalore of the 90s is no more. The immense road rage today’s Bangalore
witnesses on a daily basis makes me want to move to Kenya and live with the
Maasai and their lions.
“But why? Bangalore is so young and the weather is SOO .. ...”
Shut up. Let me repeat, shut up. And
stop honking while you’re at it.
I don’t claim to be an expert driver or a skilled observer
of every day occurrences but here’s what I understand of Bangalore’s traffic.
In Bangalore, peak hours
have been acquired by Murphy’s laws. Because peak hours are on whenever YOU get about driving on the streets. Irrespective of the time, you will find
yourself muttering under your breath while you steer the wheel with one hand
and point to the hooligan driving alongside you, with the other.
Here, the buses think they’re cars, cars are make-believe
bikes and bikes are humans on wheels, practicing aerobics. Of course, it is
unfair to generalize, but to a great extent, drivers do not seem to understand
the dimensions of their vehicles. That bus you saw in the distance in your
rear-view mirror about 5 seconds back is going to stand ½ a foot away from your
vehicle in the time you blinked. The driver will then proceed to look out his
window and examine with pride, this artsy juxtaposition of vehicles. Of course,
if he notices the woman at the wheel, he is going to stare longer and smirk the
‘so she thinks she can drive?’ smirk – but that’s a whole other debate and
another unfair generalization.
The ladies and gents on two-wheelers seem to find pleasure
in swaying around the center of the road like a dandelion in the wind. You will
find them hovering about while talking on the phone/talking to the pillion
rider/not talking to anyone but demonstrating his or her belief in
‘(ridiculously) slow and steady wins the race’. And if you’re stuck in a
jig-saw-ish traffic jam, brace yourself for the cavalry of two-wheelers and
rickshaws that will descend down on you from both sides, wriggle their way past
your vehicle, put a scratch on it or deliver a KO to your side-mirror and
occasionally turn around to get a glimpse of your tomato-red-rage face,
complete with steam emanating from the ears.
Finally then, our pedestrians. They either believe they are
from Krypton or they have trouble telling their backyard from a main road. You
will not go by a single day where there is no human hopping across the path of
your car as if to dare you. Even the cows know better – they stay stationary
while you navigate around them! Yes, I am a Malleshwaram - hudugi but the
number of people that loiter lazily, star-gaze and whisper stolen poetry into
their lover’s ears BANG in the middle of the road they call 8th Cross
makes me wonder how there hasn’t been a petition to turn it into a park.
There are plenty other ingredients to this heady mix as well.
Like smoke and dust (and whatever else renders you incapable of inhaling air)
and bad roads, some so terrible, they could put the moon to shame.
At the end of every drive, one needs to calm the nerves and
thank the Lord for not letting one’s vehicle get intimate with any other mobile
or temporarily stationary object on the road. Else one risks busting ‘em
nerves, busting one’s job or one’s personal life.
Yep, it sucks how road rage is hardly as fun as Road Rash
promised it would be.