Friday, October 29, 2004

Effing VIP movements

I walked into office this morning bristling with anger. Now that I'm calmer, I can write. Left home a bit late and was driving a bigger car than I ususally drive, which means I have to be a bit more careful, and suddenly as the light turns green on the highway at the Trident cross-section, a dilapidated police jeep intercepts the road and confused policemen who don't know what the eff... to do, decide to divert traffic. Of course an explanation would be too much to ask for, so assuming it's VIP movement (Very Irritating & Painful) we are steered left on the Trident Udyog Vihar road to nowhere. I honestly have no clue where the road's going and neither do most people blindly following the bumper in front of them. Let me message a colleague, I think, but when bad becomes worse there's nothing you can do. The battery dies on me, so there I am, late for work, no phone, and aimlessly following a bumper that changes and takes readjusting every time a car overtakes me. Worse, there are just hordes of people walking on the road. And not on the left and the right, but across the breadth -- and it is a broad breadth -- of the road. Probably workers making it to the several factories in Udyog Vihar. I slow down -- I don't want to hit them -- and the pot-holed road isn't inviting to zip on either. A T-junction; instinctively, I take a right -- my sense of direction is pretty good -- and I'm onto the old Jaipur highway. No, you don't want to go there. Meandering through Kapasehra and Samalkha -- by now I'm convinced I'm in Sehwag territory -- I pass another thousand odd people making their way to work. If someone tear gassed this place with a poisonous substance at precisely 10 to 9 am the population would be down by at least 5000 people. Anyhow, now I'm at a red light and something tells me I should turn right, but I decide to go bumper to bumper and follow the cars. I'm now even slower, trying to dodge people and pot-holes at the same time. And the cell, I try to switch it on twice but it just can't keep its eyes open with electronic resuscitation. Why can't the cops have at least planned an alternative route, put up some makeshift signboards so you don't feel like you're driving to Ropar when all you're trying to do is make it to CP, on time, might I add. Finally the road ends up at a cross section we normally access from the other side. And I actually breathe a sigh of relief. Oh! The relief of familiarity! I speed up to 80, throw my head back and drive on to work.

4 Comments:

Blogger Jabberwock said...

INTENSE! As a Delhi driver I bristle in empathetic rage. But that doesn’t mean you have to take pothole potshots at Ropar (my ancestral village), especially when your Gurgaon has a road network that was designed by the Marquis de Sade’s minions

29 October, 2004  
Blogger writer-in-egg-style said...

Hey, no jumping to conclusions...

... though zipless experiences of any kind can prove rivetting to the audience at large for their factual ambiguity as much as emotional charge.

01 November, 2004  
Blogger writer-in-egg-style said...

Okay, keeping it simply silly: do people do it naturally?

30 June, 2005  
Blogger writer-in-egg-style said...

Take your time. Contextualize. Think. Carefully. But freely.

30 June, 2005  

Post a Comment

<< Home