Death by Dung or Kohinoor?

.... and hey if you didn’t notice, you are driving to the tune of her hands yourself! This is the point where I wanna roll down that window and scream LADY JUST STUFF YOUR HANDS IN HIS PANTS AND BE DONE WITH IT ALREADY!!

Now that I am back behind the wheel, the road is my video game, and I am winning it! Well, err, only sometimes. Every day on the road is an experience isn’t it? All the out of control asses, the out of control asses of asses, and just plain old cow asses! And if you are in an auto – well its like a whole another movie! Oh that horrifying fast motion experience of an upcoming cow ass, and if you are lucky enough to be carrying a dupatta you can slow motion throw it around your face and super slow motion duck into the auto as the big fat ass with that swishing tail and leftover poop looms closer and closer ... and closer. The tail swishes like a ball chain .... the poop wriggles slowly .......and its almost as if the cows ass took a deep deep breath to totally inflate itself! In my head I am enacting a dramatic “nahiiiiiiiiiiii” in sloooow motion as I jump in revulsion to save myself. But I don’t even know if I managed to duck it........ dear God ..Nahiiiiiiiiiii.......silence .... and then Ka Boom!!!

Ok, it was just the auto. Pulling out all its power and kaboom in that final spurt to escape certain death by dung. Silent thank you to the auto-guy. You are not so bad are ya?

You know that stretch between Hosmat and Domlur? The actual Hosmat hospital road? You know that ride? That super bone jerky ride that is designed to pop loose all the nuts and bolts that hold your body together? For the non-Bangaloreans, Hosmat hospital is the leading ortho hospital specializing in spine injury. The ROAD. Well, that’s a business strategy. Designed to drive more customers inside. The drilling machine effect begins at the start of the road. Hosmat lies right at the end. Then slowly the craters start appearing...and sudden mountainous ridges. And then you hit that one big ridge that ejects you right out of your seat and throws you inside the Hosmat compound. They are waiting there with their stretchers to take you away and commit you to the life of spine repair and wheelchair. Like a bad sci-fi movie.

Once you cross that stretch and start zooming towards Koramangala the roads are like inner city heavens for motorists. Every cyclist, biker, and driver will just gun his vehicle to make the most of that half a kilometre. And the road even curves so beautifully. I took some firang friends on that road once to show them the city in an auto. And as we were zooming, one of them stuck his head out of the auto to take in the semi fresh Bangalore air. Mmmm the sweet Bangalore air ..... Ka Boom!!! Lady Amba hit him right in the face!!!

Never happened.

But it could.

And it should.

That will give them the real taste of India. Amul India :D.

In the recent weeks the other kinds of asses on the roads have been testing my patience. What’s more irritating than a weaving motorcyclist on a mobile phone? A cyclist on a mobile phone!!! Oh God, like I am not that worried about running you over already that you had to go and add a mobile phone into the mix!! Oh uncle. unccclee - but you are road royalty aren’t you? Next in line to Lady Amba and Baby Swishy Legs and her friend Master Silly Pants. I have to bite my lips to stop myself from offering a saccharine “come, why don’t you sit down in the middle of the road and have some tea?”

In the days the various variety of auto-wallahs ferried me around, the only solace at long agonizing signals would be the thumping music surfing out of a car window. And thus, I now take the responsibility of traffic signal entertainment very seriously. I am the traffic light DJ, unleashing chammak challos and mohit chauhans upon the still audience. If it were an ad we would all start tumbling out of the vehicles and start jiggying with it. Uuuui Uuuiii. Ahan. Ahan.

Hey, in all this I forgot to mention the biggest road royalty of all – the condom ad actors. The guy on the motorbike with a girl plastered to his back. Her chin gently resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her arms by the side of his legs. The wind blows gently, the bike slows a little, it weaves and sways, the hands move up to hug that chest.....the chin burrows in closer .....the bike sways some more .... drifting to the tune of her hands .... she laughs naughtily in his ear ... singing vaseeegaraa.... he brakes a little ... her hands move south ... he suddenly accelerates ....she presses in closer and he brakes some more .... and hey if you didn’t notice, you are driving to the tune of her hands yourself! This is the point where I wanna roll down that window and scream LADY JUST STUFF YOUR HANDS IN HIS PANTS AND BE DONE WITH IT ALREADY!! But the tease won’t have any of that.

By this time I have gotten quite horny myself. The other kind of horny. Please Sound Horn OK horny. But dear God I gotta beat this, so I gear up to zoom past that weaving bike. Hand on gear stick, foot pressing in on accelerator, I burst through with a warrior cry of EEeyyyaaaahhhHHHHHHHHH. But the climax stops me in my tracks. Or rather the anti-climax.

A traffic signal.

Condom adders rumble down to a stop right next to my window. A question pops in my head – do I prefer death by dung or by the kohinoor adders? But then I look out at their laughing faces and realize that probably I am the one out of line with my reactions … isn't this what makes desis - desis? – lawless, passionate, horny, loud, rule-bending, little adjusting, totally bursting, and throbbing with yin and yang. Slowly a song so corny runs through my head.

INdiaaaa ..... incredible Indi-yaaa .....