Survival of the fittest

Let me be quite honest - I have absolutely no idea where everyone gets time to write one of these things! How can you manage to squeeze any time out of a working day and energy to put your thoughts together, let alone exercise your already tired, nay bruised, body to sit over a keyboard and go tappity-tap for ANY length of time?!!

Why do I wonder, you must wonder?
I suppose a little explanation is in order.
I get up at 8-ish each morning (don't get jealous or judgemental). This was the peaceful and calm part of my day. Every single moment after that is like a roller-coaster ride inside a bloody Tornado; which, periodically, visits the lava-spewing crater of an active volcano.

In the midst of rushing through morsels of food (what you guys call Breakfast), speed-reading the daily stack of 5 newspapers (not the tabloids, I assure you, but DEFINITELY the comics) and discussions about what errands to run, there is the glorious anticipation that the next hour and half would involve something I enjoy- Driving. More specifically, driving while my favorite music is belted out by the uber-cool car stereo I have. Everyday. The same anticipation. The same warm feeling. Without fail. I leave home strangely satisfied.

Reality then sits up and bites me in the a** !!!
You just HAVE to drive here - or even just get chaufeurred around - to get a semblance of what I mean.

Did I say music in my car? Friends, there's no such thing as "music in my car". What you DO have are blaring horns, crazy no-good riders hurling expletives all around, animals (two-legged, 4 legged, or even those with odd-numbered limbs - due to road accidents, what else?!), hawkers, gawkers, love-birds, gangsters (the uncivilized criminal types and the kurta-pyjama or Suit clad "public servant" types), and what-have-you all make sure you are always kept on your toes by their ever-so-carefully orchestrated lack of driving (and civic) discipline. If I had been an aviator in the last Great War, I would have gladly faced a sky-full of flak outside Berlin on a solo bombing raid with the entire Luftwaffe taking a bead at me, and still not come close to what I face everyday while driving to work. But it wasn't to be. What rotten luck! Back to the present and reality (sic!). While you try to survive multiple cardiac arrests trying to avoid hitting AND getting hit from any and ALL directions, you are suddenly reminded of another thing by your already-aching posterior. Potholes. I apologize. Did I say "potholes"?

No,no,no! What DO you call gigantic holes on the roads? Holes the size of craters made by WW-II incendiary bombs? Holes the likes of which would put the Grand Canyon to shame? Holes you cannot see the bottoms of? Holes which make you hold your breath, grit your teeth, and pray to the Almighty for saving you from harm? And make you shell out large sums of moolah to get the suspension arms repaired, or the muffler replaced? Every other month. Pothole, somehow, just doesn't do justice to such a powerful thing. It's much, much more.

Oh did I mention the Traffic cops? How can I leave them out of a tale as splendidly sordid as this. Let me describe them to you. Large or small, pot-bellied, slow-moving, clothed in white (sometimes), mostly drowsy individuals found near Traffic signals. specially found when there's hardly any traffic to direct. They really help you improve the mileage you get out of your car by making your wallet lighter at every opportunity they get or create. Swell guys, these!

There! I've managed to reach my destination - with life and limb. Phew! Its only taken me an hour and a half to travel all of 16 kms. A new land-speed record for this fair town! As I gleefully step out of my car, and stretch my aching body, I look up to the blue sky and wonder. The sunshine shimmering through the trees, birds chirping, rustling of leaves...sigh...There is hope, after all. It will all change someday, I think, and full of zest, whirl around to take on the day.

And stop DEAD in my tracks... The rear bumper of my car is evidently missing and I have a broken tail-lamp.
!@#$%^&*()(*&^%$#@! those lousy, no-good, @#@$!##$%^&^^**(&$&#@.....

I still have to drive back home in the evening... But thats another thrilling story. Later.
Right now, I need to call my insurance agent, and get my car patched up.