A day on Delhi roads

On a sticky summer Saturday afternoon, Rishi Chawla, a 20-something young man, crashed into my car.

I got off like most drivers do in Delhi but did not shoot off those mandatory phrases like most drivers do in Delhi. That is, I did not allege any intimate relationship with Rishi’s mother or sister.

Instead I asked him what seemed to be the problem. He, unlike other Delhi drivers, was apologetic and told me the brakes in his car were malfunctioning.

His girlfriend’s wardrobe too was malfunctioning from what I could see. A man in a Ford Ikon accused them of being in some stage of lovemaking. I hope it was one of the first stages.

I suggested he should get his brakes repaired before he continues with his city scan. He said sorry again and promised to heed to my advice. The light turned green and we separated. I wished Rishibhai luck as he zoomed past me seconds later on Mathura Road.

So how did I know his name? Well it was written in an abnormally large font size on his windshield. And his mobile number too. He had a press signboard, not sticker, on his front bumper. And on at least one side a New York Number. Add, a University of Pennsylvania sticker to boot.

At the next signal I stopped behind a Premier Padmini. When the signal turned green, everybody else continued with their journeys to wherever they were headed.

The family in Padmini, me and a man in the car behind me waited till the signal turned red again.

That’s when the Padmini's engine roared to go enough distance to make enough space for me to turn left and stand parallel to it. One lesson. If you happen to stop behind a Padmini, keep enough distance to manoeuvre later because the Padmini has got moods.

If that was not enough, right on the breezy Nizamuddin Bridge I was behind an Omni whose driver was having a lazy weekend. Being a stickler for traffic rules is very frustrating in such circumstances because the crawler wanted me to overtake from left. My honking was of no help.
I kept the faith and crawled about a couple of kilometres behind him till Noida More, when we got even.

At the Noida More signal, a 10-something beggar was knocking on the driver's side window of the Wagon R in front of me. The man didn't want to spoil his AC moments and ignored the begging boy, who tore off the rubber panel on his door.

The man had to come out and swear at the boy, who ran off. By the time the man sank back into his seat, the boy was knocking at my window. I didn't ignore him and came straight out. The boy just ran off to a distance and burst into a giggle, which would have been a pleasant sight if he was not as delinquent.