by K. Rajbir Deswal
I have no reason to disagree with Haryana Director-General of Police Ranjiv Dalal when he says he develops a “jet lag” after travelling(?) through the Delhi and Gurgaon traffic snarls, although I have been immensely benefited, having been caught up in these gridlocks, very frequently. And I gainsay, jams do help reduce stress in their own peculiar way.
You learn not to give a kneejerk reaction, at even listening to the news about a repentant Musharraf stepping down to allow himself being “judicially” dealt with, since your legs are always busy with the brake-and-clutch operations. Yes, you may give in to jumpstarts, and it is good for nursing ambition, and bolster your self-esteem.
I have even heard lovers say they met for the first time caught up in a jam. Their eyes met, at the same time when their vehicles “met”. And there was no looking back thereafter. Also there was no point, for nothing was visible except bonnets and windscreens. The reinforced stability in the lovers’ character stood reassured, besides a tendency to fall in line, for there was no “lane cutting” or “sidetracking” possible.
Driving through the melee of a traffic jam gives you a feeling as if you are driving a world-class vehicle. You can read a newspaper, plonked on the steering wheel itself, for it may not be your turn, to turn it for long. And you may enjoy the thrill of driving a car, with automatic transmission, since you do not need to jazz up the gear, and continue with the same, even after going five feet.
Road rage has become unthinkable for me, at least. I rather exchange smiles, with the one who hits my rear with a fender (no pun intended please); now look, how humble have I become. In fact some of us regular jam-jelled have really developed a bonding, as should be expected between “jam pals”. “Hi there! Still there? Wish you tortoise speed!” Zoom, vroom, zap and screech have lost all meaning for me, and I now like only a revved-up whirr, ghurr, dhum and pataak!
I have observed a change for the better, in people’s attitude, and now they give way to others, while caught up in a jam. The realisation dawning on them that the straggler has come thus far, and may go no further, is altogether a different issue.
I always take calls on my cell phone, telling the caller, “it really is a good time calling me now” without worrying for the prying eyes of a traffic constable, since he cannot be seen around, for as long as the line of sight travels — yes, and who said nothing travels in a traffic snarl.
The jams have come to afford a roaring business for beggars as also the vendors. Believe me, for I have seen many behind the wheel, patronising the favourites among them. Office-going Babus now proudly claim their files move faster and that experienced jam jockeys at least should not complain of red-tapism anymore.
I have found the jam- prone areas, to be crime- free stretches, for none can dare to execute a successful robbery, and find an escape route. You can jolly well leave your handbag by your side, on the car seat, with a windowpane wide open, even if it amounts to an open invitation, for being looted at leisure.
The jam-packed bounties have made me overcome my phobia of getting suffocated if, God forbid, a fire broke out and there was no escape for me. Obnoxious fumes? My foot! I now jam care for them! And many road users may tow the lane, when I say, “I enjoy the jam jamboree.” Do you?
I have no reason to disagree with Haryana Director-General of Police Ranjiv Dalal when he says he develops a “jet lag” after travelling(?) through the Delhi and Gurgaon traffic snarls, although I have been immensely benefited, having been caught up in these gridlocks, very frequently. And I gainsay, jams do help reduce stress in their own peculiar way.
You learn not to give a kneejerk reaction, at even listening to the news about a repentant Musharraf stepping down to allow himself being “judicially” dealt with, since your legs are always busy with the brake-and-clutch operations. Yes, you may give in to jumpstarts, and it is good for nursing ambition, and bolster your self-esteem.
I have even heard lovers say they met for the first time caught up in a jam. Their eyes met, at the same time when their vehicles “met”. And there was no looking back thereafter. Also there was no point, for nothing was visible except bonnets and windscreens. The reinforced stability in the lovers’ character stood reassured, besides a tendency to fall in line, for there was no “lane cutting” or “sidetracking” possible.
Driving through the melee of a traffic jam gives you a feeling as if you are driving a world-class vehicle. You can read a newspaper, plonked on the steering wheel itself, for it may not be your turn, to turn it for long. And you may enjoy the thrill of driving a car, with automatic transmission, since you do not need to jazz up the gear, and continue with the same, even after going five feet.
Road rage has become unthinkable for me, at least. I rather exchange smiles, with the one who hits my rear with a fender (no pun intended please); now look, how humble have I become. In fact some of us regular jam-jelled have really developed a bonding, as should be expected between “jam pals”. “Hi there! Still there? Wish you tortoise speed!” Zoom, vroom, zap and screech have lost all meaning for me, and I now like only a revved-up whirr, ghurr, dhum and pataak!
I have observed a change for the better, in people’s attitude, and now they give way to others, while caught up in a jam. The realisation dawning on them that the straggler has come thus far, and may go no further, is altogether a different issue.
I always take calls on my cell phone, telling the caller, “it really is a good time calling me now” without worrying for the prying eyes of a traffic constable, since he cannot be seen around, for as long as the line of sight travels — yes, and who said nothing travels in a traffic snarl.
The jams have come to afford a roaring business for beggars as also the vendors. Believe me, for I have seen many behind the wheel, patronising the favourites among them. Office-going Babus now proudly claim their files move faster and that experienced jam jockeys at least should not complain of red-tapism anymore.
I have found the jam- prone areas, to be crime- free stretches, for none can dare to execute a successful robbery, and find an escape route. You can jolly well leave your handbag by your side, on the car seat, with a windowpane wide open, even if it amounts to an open invitation, for being looted at leisure.
The jam-packed bounties have made me overcome my phobia of getting suffocated if, God forbid, a fire broke out and there was no escape for me. Obnoxious fumes? My foot! I now jam care for them! And many road users may tow the lane, when I say, “I enjoy the jam jamboree.” Do you?
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