Trouble

My car's idling at yet another traffic signal. I'm stuck at the red lights for the third time already. I want to whack someone, yell my lungs out at the bumbling rickshaw ahead to move his rickety ride, godammit! Traffic in Mumbai can test the patience of a saint. Just as I was thinking of new ways to vent my anger, John-McEnroe-style, there's a knock on the car's window. I roll the windows down and see a suave, criminally gorgeous fella - smile on his lips, hope in his eyes. I had a sullen look on my face and swiftly try to repair it, replacing it with mild incredulity. "Yeah?" I manage. "Are you going to Malad?" he asks me. Incredulity is now replaced with disbelief. That's the last thing I ever expected him to say. I continue to give him a dumb look. "Could you give me a ride to Malad, please?" he persists. 'Yes, yes yes!' my mind shrills. I mean c'mon! He's a Greek God, for crying out loud. I would be but a mortal fool to refuse. I began to reply in the affirmative. And then, swift as lightening, a voice creeps into my head. It is the voice cultivated out of years of education that is indoctrinated into every girl. 'You fool,' it admonishes. 'Are you out of your mind? Don't you know that thing they say about talking to strangers? This guy could look like a fashion model right off the rampwalk, but that doesn't mean he couldn't be a mugger. Or a rapist. Or a serial killer. Or a psychopath. Or a dangerous combination of all. Refuse right away! And roll up those windows. Lock your doors. Yell out loud if Greek God lashes out. Do you have a sharp object that you could use? A knife, a filer, a scissor? Nothing? ARRRGH!'

I draw a deep breath. Had I let that control-freak-of-a-voice possess me, I would have been classified as a nutty oddball and landed myself in a room full of padded walls. Instead, a calm voice takes over. "I'm awfully sorry," I say, "but I have friends to pick up at the next signal. I can't help you." Greek God looks dejected. "Its okay," he politely says and moves away to search for alternatives. I kick myself. Had I not been a girl, I would never have faced this quandary. What does that station master say in Jab We Met? Akeli ladki ek khuli tijori ki tarah hoti hai. Sad (and slightly crude) stereotype. Substantiated by countless horror stories of women being victims of brutal crimes, simply because they were careless or just plain unlucky. No matter how well trained you are in self-defense or are Wonder Woman yourself, you don't go around talking to strangers, even if it means genuinely helping a person in need. You don't take risks. That's what we are told, and most of us dutifully follow.

Not that I regret I was born a girl. It doesn't matter much whether you are from Mars or Venus, not in today's world anyway. However, more often than not, we become subjects of stereotype, which forms the basis of gender prejudice. You're a girl. So it is presumed you are weak and vulnerable. No late nights, no traveling alone, no talking to strangers. I find it highly regressive; although, it would be premature to conclude that the premise behind these restrictions is entirely wrong. Some of us may know how to take care of ourselves. There are countless women who party late at night, travel to far-flung destinations alone or can confidently handle a conversation with a stranger, without getting the heebie-jeebies. Good for them; I wish there were more of their kind. But maybe, just maybe, our parents are right Maybe that voice in our heads, control-freak or not, has some credibility. You can't push your luck too far. Its an insane world out there, increasingly unsafe for women. And sometimes, perhaps just sometimes, you need to take a step back. Even if you're raring to go. Take precautions. always. Better to be safe than sorry. After all, its only for your own good, as our parents love to say :)

A Tale of Two Traffic Violations

This was my second run-in with the law. However, I don't think I will garner any empathy if I insist that I was innocent both times. As Morgan Freeman says of the prison in The Shawshank Redemption - "Everyone in here is innocent..." The first time I had to swerve into the first lane to avoid colliding with a materializing-out-of-thin-air jaywalker, streaking across the road when the green signal was on for us motorists. He was gone at the speed of light and obviously, the Pandu on the prowl at the corner did NOT notice him. Sweet. His bakra-mila-antennas stuck right up and you could almost see the $$ sign flashing in his eyes. What's more, its a lady driver! Even better. Another $ can be added to the previous two, already doing the bhangra in the sockets. He is quick to come and park himself right in front of my car, signaling fiercely to step aside. Trust me, there's nothing more embarrassing than a cop stopping you, making you look and feel like a petty criminal. Wretched feeling it is. But its no time for assessing one's feelings. I aim to wriggle out of the mess. I put on an are-you-serious look on my face. And brandish it to the pot-bellied cop. "Did you see that guy running across the road when the green light was on for me?" I asked the cop. He is not amused. "Madam, fine bharna padega... aapne lane change kiya..." I am incredulous. "But I did that only to avoid colliding with that moron!" Imagine my surprise when he tells me, "Woh toh hai 'maidam'... par aapne rule break kiya.... ek kaam karo.... sau rupaiyon ka chota-sa fine bharo." I was fuming by now. Had I broken the rules with dubious intentions, I wouldn't mind paying up for my mistake. But this was completely irrational. Bordering on exploitative. The guy who put me in trouble must be thanking his stars right now while I was left counting them over the cop's thick head. I reason with him again. "That means I am getting punished for saving someone's life. How can you do that, Sir?" No use. "Fine bharo 'maidam' (again! ugh!) ... phir aap jaa sakte ho..." What the heck? This guy was turning out to be dumber than Paris Hilton. "Tell me one thing Sir," I say patiently. "Had I not switched lanes and continued on the original happy lil' one, you would probably be booking me for murder right now. I chose breaking traffic rules over killing someone. Now you decide which one's wiser." (I wanted to add - grow a brain, you idiot!!) He thought over that for a while. Almost as if it finally dawned on him, he let me go. Whew. Did someone say the truth will set you free? Well, not after you've had to really fight for it. Round one to me.

The second time, I admit I was the dumb one. I have this stupid habit of following the car immediately before me at a traffic light, even if the lights turn red. I don't bother to check the lights. My (senseless) reasoning being - If the car ahead is moving, then so should I. But lights do turn red when you are at the zebra crossing, regardless of whether the car ahead has moved or not. Something similar happened, only this time there was this huge truck in front of me. Blocking my view of the signal. So I happily follow him. Me and a few cars next to me. What happens next is anyone's guess. Enter jet-black-sunglassed Pandu, materializing like my worst nightmare in front of me. Ordering me to stop. Not again, I think!! I am getting (in)famous for this now. Said cop has this smirk on his face that I was determined to wipe off. Whether I was in the wrong or not. So the entire gig repeats itself. You broke the rules, pay up and blah blah. Only this time I adopt a different approach. I asked him why he targeted only me when there were atleast 4 other cars that also jumped the signal. When that didn't ruffle him, I used the one card that was sure to get me out. Not a fair thing to do... but hey, it was important to save my arse too. So I put on a victimized face and accused him of harassing me only 'cause I was a woman. This threw him totally off guard! Sensing a possible winner here, I went on. Told him how we women are always careful while driving (the Haveliwala incident notwithstanding) and how my record was clean (lie, lie!). This seemed to perturb him and he let me go! But not without a repartee - "Agar main aapse fine le leta, toh aap mujhe aur bhi gaali deti...." I gave him my most winning smile and told him how much I respect the police and I would never abuse them. That seemed to inflate his already inflated belly and he laughed. Hasa toh phasa.....! I was a free bird, again! Round two to Avanti, very well done!

There isn't a round 3 (yet) and I hope I NEVER get caught again. I barely got away the last two times and I can't expect to push my luck too far. Besides, after the horrific Noori Haveliwala accident, I am much more careful. Proof? Didn't cross 100 km/hr while on empty streets at 11 pm, all the way from Marine Drive to Borivali via the Sea Link this weekend, though I was itching to go faster. Proud of myself :) Guess I won both rounds, but the cops had some good effect on me nonetheless ;)

Gimme some Space, yaar!

My friend Shikha asked me something interesting today - "After the fight for oil, what could the next big fight be for?" I pondered over the query for a while. What indeed could scuffles and wars break out for? Nuclear weapons? The right to clone humans? The cure for AIDS? Or perhaps emissions regulation? I am no prophet; neither do I possess a whacky imagination that could spin tales to boggle rudimentary minds. I count myself amongst the latter lot - I am plagued by simpler ordeals that could very likely snowball into unmanageable complexities if gone unchecked. Like parking spaces, for instance (don't laugh). Since times immemorial, space has always been a subject of great dispute and minor powwows. Great, long wars were fought over land, spaces. Today, we are still battling it out for space - primarily for shelter, for that ground beneath our feet and the roof over our heads. But, also consider other trifles like the fight for space in the Great-Indian-queue, for that fourth seat on the Mumbai local train, for atleast a square centimeter on the board of the overcrowded-BEST bus, for a 2-second darshan at Siddhivinayak/ Tirupati temples, for a tiny area on the rocks at Bandstand on a Sunday evening etc. etc. The more creative ones will even demand 'space' in relationships (I never quite understood that phrase).

Judging by the sheer number of cars and other four-wheeled monsters that ply on our over-burdened roads, I will not be surprised if we soon run out of spaces for parking our four-wheeled indulgences. Not so long ago, I was walking through the upscale neighbourhood of Hill Road (perennially in a traffic jam) and was mildly amused to see several cars (each more ravishing and more expensive than the other) lined alongside the narrow streets. Most were parked bumper-to-bumper. I wonder how the drivers got them out. Parking lots in malls/theatres are filled within minutes on weekends. Even aircrafts circle the airport for hours, just for that elusive area to land. Such is the dearth of spaces in our city. The parking lot in a SoBo neighbourhood will make you poorer by anywhere between (hold-your-breath) Rs. 15-25 lakh!! Such preposterousness! One also witnesses brawls breaking out if someone else captures your parking space, even though legally - it ain't yours. The other day, Mom got ultra-defensive (and almost abusive) as a smartarse tried to sneak in his car while I was busy negotiating a turn into the narrow space between two cars! Tempers are already flying thick and fast over (hitherto) trivial things such as parking spaces! So much so that, ghar rahe ya na rahe, parking space toh hona hi chahiye!

It also doesn't help that every family these days preens about in more than one car. This has added severe pressure to the already-cracking infrastructure of the city. I see a day not so far away when our newspapers will flash the headline - Mr. Poonawaala wins the case against Mr. Jhunjhunwaala, thereby winning the right to park his Audi Q7 in the disputed area (which incidentally happens to be two kilometres away from his residence... since the building's parking lot already accomodates the very chap's 2 BMWs & 3 Lamborghinis)! Indeed, in the future, parking spaces are going to be much rarer commodities than housing spaces.

God save us all then.

The First Time

The first scratch on a brand new car hurts. A lot. Especially when the car is your own. It is as though you're bruised and relegated to a world of pain. What bothers me the most is that my car didn't acquire the said scratch as an outcome of frenzied driving from my end (which I do occasionally, much to the chagrin of other motorists on the roads). It didn't happen 'cause I was speeding the tires off the car or bumped it into a rickshaw (that suddenly changed lanes) or an aggressively-looming-in-your-mirrors BIG, BAD BEST bus. These days, I drive my car to work daily, and ply on the Western-Express highway, Aarey and Andheri-Kurla roads which are plagued with motorists that drive amok, like lunatics. You have to be super-alert during every second of the drive. However, nothing happens then. My drive is event-free and quite smooth. Instead this particular deed was done while turning into a very tight corner in the backyard of my very own building! A turn that I have been taking for the past 7 years! Something I'd perfected and mastered. And now, here I was.... taking a turn that I presumed I was taking appropriately..... and suddenly there's this grating voice. As though someone took a knife and grazed the skin off your knees with it. Savagely and brutally. My insides churned and my eyes shut tightly close. But to what avail? The deed was done and the scratch was there, sneering at me like a stubborn child who's just got its way.

The scratch isn't significant and can hardly be noticed, but its right there.... just like an old lover whose memories won't fade away. I am pretty upset with myself for being so careless, so clumsy. Maybe I'd fix the scratch during the next service for the car. Paint over it a bit and patch it up. But sadly, the dent will remain. Forever.

Ferrrrrrrrrrrari!

My favorite F1 car - Ferrari (only because Michael Schumacher was with it) is in town! And where it is, can Avanti be far behind? She certainly can't. And here she is, next to her dream car! The car she's rooted seven full years for (during Michael's stint)! Now only if Schumi was there too..... *starts dreaming*

Ooooh!

Aaaah!

Me, beaming (you know why!)

The Jaw-Dropper

This gorgeous quadruped was spotted at Inorbit (pics courtesy: Vibz - a great photosnapper!). I say, what a ravishing beauty! Notice how her curves slide smoothly at the rear (Ahem. No puns please). The moment I spotted it, my jaws dropped to the floor and only tucked back into the original slot after a full 10 minutes. Mercedes, you have earned my respect for designing this CLS 280 stunner (though my loyalties still lie with Audi). You sure do have an eye for beauty.

PS: Notice the 'girl in the green shirt'? (ref: Confessions of a Shopaholic). She was eyeballing the car as if she was gonna steal it away. Can't blame you Deepz, we all felt the same!

Road Rage

The guy who picked us up from the station today and was entrusted with the simple, straightforward and you-can’t-possibly-go-horribly-wrong-with-this responsibility of dropping us at the office premises was such a colossal dunce. Downright annoying and oh-please-let-it-be-legal-to-strangle-him kinda bloke. This chap drove the car as if he was possessed. No, not in a Michael Schumacher kinda fashion. It was as if the spectre of a particularly lazy species of the tortoise family had entered his corpus instead. Add the dual disabilities of extreme deafness and hopeless numb-headedness to the said tortoise and you have the man sketched up just right.

This frightful character who was deemed fit to navigate the foul roads of Mumbai by some lamebrain of a transport supervisor, got me considerably worked up in the wee hours of a bright, sunny morning, a morning that should've progressed mirthfully, had it not been for this dimwit. Rows and rows of vehicles (yes, even the laggardly rickshaws & tempo types) overtake our car, quite justifiably, as the road ahead is uncluttered, unpopulated, free for the uninhibited soul to tread upon. But no, our chap here is in no particular hurry. Ah, we're gonna reach anyway aren't we? I mean, even if I don't want to, I will be coerced to by a plethora of honking motorists behind me. Allow me to indulge, meanwhile, in simple pleasures like toying with the FM stereo, even though the vehicle bang ahead has traveled atleast a kilometer away from me. Oh, I find the seatbelt amusing too. So much so that I may just attach and detach it several times, just to check if its length can support my wide girth. When that bores me, I think I will stare at the bloke sitting next to me (who is probably fuming, turning a bright shade of pink by now) or even better, pick at my stained teeth. Meanwhile, a barrage of motorists who pass by, give me a glance that surprisingly seems nasty, which I do not appreciate at all, considering what a nice, little chap I am. Oh, chuck it all. I think I will just ignore them and trundle along at my own sweet pace.

Mind you, I am NOT exaggerating at all. These are the exact sequence of events that took place, the exact lethargic indifference that the driver displayed and the exact feeling of increasing frustration that I was containing in myself (a mere 20 min ride took an agonizing 45 mins); what with myself already running an hour late. I say, to the bottom of the heap to all such inept species-on-the-roads and please-oh-please God, I hope I don't ever meet the idiot again.

Coz I don't know what I'd do to him.

Dreams on Wheels

Suave.

Stylish.

Sexy.

Simply splendid!

No, I'm not talking 'bout Daniel Craig in Casino Royale. That's my sleek 'n swanky (atleast for my current income levels) new car! :) After nearly over a month of cumbersome paperwork, numerous shellouts, a hundred calls and a nail-biting wait, it finally arrived. Always wanted to own a neat lil' set of wheels of my own, what with myself being a speed freak. Rest of them worldly possessions can wait. Though at the end of 3 years, I'm gonna be a half a million rupees poorer (I make that sound dramatic).... still, its gonna be worth every diligently-toiled-for-rupee for me. Not to mention the proud faces of Mom and Dad. Now that's priceless!

Got a lot more to do to jazz up the car a bit. Equip it with remote lock systems, window films, audio system (of utmost importance!), anti-theft mechanism, seat covers, throw in a few pillows to add the homely effect and some additional decor.

Gee, can hardly wait to get started! The i10's my paramour of the hour. Atleast, until the novelty wears off.

Although I don't think it ever will ;)