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Ride of ironies

It is just fun to gaze. I think, as I exit the airport into the only swift roads of Bangalore. A few fleeting moments of seamless movement before I get enveloped by cars and surrounded by the cacophony of car horns. Jo Nesbo is awesome company on a flight I realize. He has a knack of making the pages move. Somewhere between the smooth roads of Bangalore and the hangover of a few pages of a freshly read Nesbo I write this.

The temptation is to get philosophical but I feel my philosophical logic is flawed at times. I also feel it loses relevance under certain circumstances. That kind of philosophy is actually no philosophy. So I will stay clear. We move past cars and brightly lit hoardings. These billboards promise a great life. They have everything from a great home to a great loan for it. The idea seems as far as the boards. Bangalore traffic is weird. The traffic rules of this city is perplexing for a new driver. One of such things is the one way toll booth that we are approaching. The toll is about 120 bucks. But you pay only for coming in. You can get out for free.

There is a McDonalds sign at the distance. At once I feel my stomach. It rumbles as if it were using choicest expletives in Hindi. I always thought expletives in Hindi had a rhythmic flow to it. It sort of blends in with your everyday language conveying the feeling you are expressing a little more emphatically. You have to credit the Delhi folks for constructing such pure magic using just words mostly referring to female and male relatives and body parts.

The street lights look serene. Most importantly all of them work! Without an exception. The ones in the middle as well as the ones on the side. That’s incredible for just about any road in India. And yet we wonder why people need full beam while driving. It is simple. These lights can die out on you at just about anytime creating a sudden zone of such darkness that you are bound to miss the jay walker who decided to cross the road at just that place wearing a full black attire. And we wonder why we have so many road accidents. It isn’t always rash driving.

The smooth road ends. The fury of Bangalore roads is going to hit us in full force. It is 8:30 pm. Am not sure that’s reason for respite. We drive past a car. The diver has a Bluetooth headset to his ear. He looks like the owner of the car. There are two people in the backseat. None in the front. I have to give into my stereotyping now. My driver’s phone rings for the nth time. Somebody wants to talk to him real bad. He is on phone with him right now. Stereotyping is slowly leading to a pensive discomfort basis my safety. Call over. Sigh of relief. Yet, I take calls while driving all the time.

One hoarding reads “World class marbles”. A woman in a long black dress is posing right in the middle. Her dress exposes one fine leg of the dame and a shoe that sort of doubles up for socks as well. Somewhere in the background there is marble too. Yes there is.

Sonu Nigam is a fantastic singer. One of my favorites. As I remember him the first song that comes to my mind is Jaane nahin from 3 idiots. He is singing now in the car radio. He is mighty inaudible and pretty ununderstandable as he spins out one Kannada word after the other.
The light in the car is pretty bad but I am going back to my Nesbo. I have had enough of this ride of ironies.





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