Reflex Reflux

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Reader's Digest, 1960s:

Q: Which is the weakest part in a car?

A: The nut behind the wheel

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This is how a lad of 30 drives his sedan on the treacherous highways of Hyderabad City:

As soon as he whizzes out of his lower cellar parking lot and takes to the road, he draws up all the windows, turns on the AC, adjusts its settings, switches on the FM Radio Mirchi, all with his left hand and honks with the right hand like the very Devil, scaring away all kids, senor citizens and ladies...but the buffaloes jamming the road couldn't care less for him, his sedan, his wild honking and his pique.

Plowing right through the interstitial buffalo vacancies, he reaches the 'shoulder' and intrudes right away into the fast lane on the other side, ignoring all the seven-seaters, autos, buses and trucks falling behind him. And enjoys the screechings and scratchings and scoldings of all other drivers behind him. And in a minute and a half finds he is in the wrong lane with four vehicles in front of him waiting to take a U-Turn; and veers to his left, honking like nobody's business.

He then finds himself on the highway leading to Jubilee Hills and relaxes by screwing (with his left hand) his bluetooth in his ear, pulls his Nokia out of his shirt pocket, keeps it on the dashboard, and starts chatting with his wife, kid, friends and colleagues for the next ten minutes. And finds his bluetooth is dead. No problem; he dumps it and keeps chatting with the cell phone held to his left ear. And next finds that his closest chum is not lifting his cell phone; no problem. He composes a long text-message with his left hand and sends it...all the while driving at a steady eighty. And screeches to a halt when he finds that the RTC Bus in front of him gets a flat tire. And swerves to the left and scoots...

And he returns in one second to his fast lane, pulls a plastic toothpick from his shirt pocket and picks his teeth with his right hand. And finds that the auto in front of him is holding him up, shifts the toothpick to his left hand and honks a musical: "papappaa paa...pippippe pee, pappa-pippee...", and finds the auto driver go mad abusing him in chaste Hyderbadi Deccani; no problem...his shutters are up, but he looks down at the auto chap and gesticulates with his right hand unspeakable sign language, and zoooooms ahead. Remember that during this riposte, both his hands are busy and his sedan is on autopilot.

He then opens his tiffin box with his right hand and picks up a paneer-puff and starts munching it and wipes his hands and mouth with the paper napkin pulled out from its box on the dashboard...again on autopilot. And after he is done with his tiffin, he unscrews his mouthwash bottle, has a swig and closes it...at 80 still. Then he comes to a halt at a signal, still in the (wrong) fast lane, and veers all the way to the leftmost lane, making the traffic go haywire.

And finally he enters his parking lot and reverses plumb and parks his sedan expertly sandwiching it between two other jumbos; and gets off.

His dad (70), by his side, recovers his speech and rebukes him, saying: "In Hyderabad, it is not enough if you stick to the rules; you have to always keep in mind that everyone else is about to break them, and anticipate." He shrugs and says: "I know that all others do it; so it is ok if one chap doesn't."

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And this is how his dad (70) drives his matchbox Maruti 800 of a dozen years vintage:

As soon as he starts his car, he realizes that he didn't take his duplicate ignition key, stops, goes up six floors, shoves his duplicate in his pants pocket and returns; and starts with a jerk since he forgot he was in the first gear.

And takes to the road at 20 kmph, honking all the while as if he is doing 80. Everyone on the road smiles and he returns their warm smiles of recognition. His shutters are down since he has no AC and he can't believe his blinkers are really working, so he uses his hand-signals learned a dozen years ago in West Bengal...hand up before stopping (which is frequently), heaving the arm up and down for a right turn, and circling it clockwise (and anticlockwise too to be sure) for a left turn, getting his arms hit by many speeding bikers who look back with astonishment.

Remember all the while that he is still in the second gear at 20 till he reaches the 'shoulder', by when the engine is hot and the fan is whirring. He stops the car and decides he won't take the highway, and keeps going on the 'shoulder'. And sweats and stops in front of a coconut-thela-gadi forgetting to look at the rear-view mirror (his side-view thing is always in, since it increases his car's width and he can't cope). So, the back of his car is hit by the auto behind; and the auto chap comes out and bangs him left and right and claims his front mud-guard is damaged (as true as this blog). And collects Rs 50 and speeds up (to hit another Maruti from behind).

On the return trip, he debates whether to follow the rules and get on the highway and take that U-Turn ahead or simply stick to the 'shoulder' and drive back on the wrong side with all lights on. And notices a cop looking at him sternly, and decides to be bold. He gingerly enters the slow lane of the highway and keeps going at 20, but realizes that sometime or the other he has to shift to the fast lane to take that U-Turn. And decides to do it right away to ease his nerves, crawls and signals madly with his arm, but unfortunately the wrong way round and hits a biker who falls down on the road. He then screeches to a halt plumb in the middle, comes out to help his victim since he is too afraid to be a 'hit-and-run' case. All traffic comes to a wild halt, but before he reaches the biker he finds the chap had gotten up, dusted himself briefly, started his bike and fled...he doesn't know that most bikers in Hyderabad have no papers, no insurance, no helmet, no driving license...no brakes too maybe.

He then starts looking at his fender if it is damaged, but finds that the abuses by the many-headed are unbearable, and then veers slowly back to the slow lane and takes a left turn and is back on the 'shoulder' with that cop grinning at him like that Cheshire Cat...

He then reflects philosophically that everyone, if they are lucky enough, will eventually turn 70...like him.

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