You check the petrol level
and for another day procrastinate checking the tire pressure level as once again
you are running late for office. You share your destiny to reach office in 25
flat minutes with no one else, despite the traffic blockages. You have the power
that none can afford to have – For a city filled with cars, you are the lone
shining star. You ride the Activa. You don’t give a damn about lane traffic.
You crisscross the traffic as if everyone else is obliged to give you way. You
think to yourself, “Lanes are just a state of mind, fulfilled by the neatly
lined cars”. When the cars and other heavy vehicles have two lanes per road, an
Activa has three – Left, Right and Center.
When I enter the flyover, I
choose to enter it via the left lane. There is a lot of crowding at the left
side of the road, since everyone wants to climb up the flyover and the only way
to beat the one on your right is to cut him across. The left lane is accommodative
to everyone and doesn’t differentiate despite varying levels of hard work,
talent and the kind of bike you ride. Everyone moves at the same speed and everyone
is treated equal with no regards to their social standing. You ride are as fast
as the leader bike, which in your opinion is always the slowest. The leader
bike has all the expanse of lane estate in front of him, but because of his’
ineptitude, he would be dismally slow. He would point fingers at the car guys
complaining that they are not allowing him to move forward by blocking and
cutting him. He will ask everyone behind to create a ruckus by continuously
honking at something that doesn’t exist, but making the pack believe that he is
fighting for the common cause. You may start your life as a leftist, but only
to realize that it isn’t sustainable if you want to move forward and reach your
office in the next 15 minutes.
I shift lanes. I watch my
rear view mirror carefully and jump at the opportunity presented. The center
lane is one of the most dangerous positions to be in. You are neither here nor
there, but you know you will have to keep moving forward at a brisk pace,
otherwise the car guys would just eat you up. You entertain the crony car guys
with space and barter it for your personal protection. You either have no ideals
or not capable of exhibiting one. You look to your left and laugh at the
leftists for being so slow and unproductive, but decry the idea that your own
fundamentals of stepping onto the flyover was embalmed by their ideals. I am
reaching the end of the flyover and get the realization that I need to take the
exit. I don’t have a choice but to change lanes once again to become a leftist
for a brief amount of time and then discover my way around.
Unhappily I change lanes,
become a leftist and take the exit and try to maintain the left-centrist
position. When you are near Dadar circle heading into Tilak Bridge, you have no
freaking idea on your leaning. You are just opportunistic and head for the
right to enter Tilak Bridge – the gateway of Parel. You are on the hot zone now
– the right lane. You have just 10 more minutes and you realize that you will
have to be that animal to cut off every head that comes your way to reach
office on time. You don’t bother about what other people think or how they may
react. Your current goal is to take the right at any cost. You don’t estimate
the cost because that is not borne by you. You don the hat of rightist, leftist,
centrist, zigzagist and make your way through.
When the frenzy dies down,
you look back in retrospection of the last 2-3 minutes. What have you done? Was
it right? Yes. It was the Right way to do things. Was it wrong? May be. Who
cares! I have survived.
I reach office in time and
head to the parking. There again, they make me play the same political games
that I played in the last 20 minutes. Alright! Game on!
