Saturday, April 15, 2006

Taxi driver

Yesterday was a bad day. The sheer, frustrating, mind-numbing inactivity of it made it so. Early morning, I played basketball. I didn't play that well. But that's usual, so I didn't bother myself about that, unlike a friend of mine. I come back home and find I have nothing to do the whole day. This irritated me. All my friends were busy with their projects and stuff. I have to do mine in the company premises and those were closed on account of Ambedkar Jayanti, Good Friday, Tamil and Malayali New Year's day and other assorted holidays thrown in. Not that I particularly 'ached' to do my project or anything. But we're falling a little behind schedule here and..I'm a little worried.

'I come back home from basketball and lie aimlessly for a while. I try and watch "La notti di Cabiria" for a while. However, even though it is a fascinating movie(AND a Fellini movie, to boot), on account of the tiredness induced by the game, I fall asleep in front of the TV.

I awaken a half-hour later. I have had only four hours sleep the previous night and a half hour now. I need my six hours minimum and this doesn't suit my body at all. My head aches dully, but I cannot fall asleep. I do my daily things. I am slowly sinking into a foul mood. I can feel it, recognize it for what it is; but I cannot do anything about it. The quagmire of irateness draws me in powerfully and my struggle is useless.

Afternoon arrives slowly and passes by even more painfully slowly. I try to read a book, but it is no use. By now, I am seized by a powerful impulse to kill somebody or atleast hurt them very badly. I want to catch hold of somebody and smash their face repeatedly. I want to feel their face, pulpy and soft with blood. I want to feel my fist enmeshed with their facial muscles, loose and haphazard.

Evening arrives. My friend calls and beckons me over. Let's do something. Like, play cricket or go disturb Subba, who has internals tomorrow. Sounds like fun, but I can't make it. Why the hell not? I'm not in the mood. What's wrong with you? I don't know, but I don't want to drive all the way there. Fine, do whatever suits you.

I am driving to my friend's house, an hour later.

There are fools with the worst road sense in the world, in this city. Never mind the vehicle coming at you is heavier than you, has no heart or feelings, cannot see you and is being driven by a nut who is probably still a virgin. You will still rush headlong into its path, won't you? Makes sense. Old ladies scurry across your path without caring for you or their own lives. Fools on slow bicycles cross the road diagonally and slowly. Idiots in big, fancy cars amble along right in the middle of the road, despite their cars being able to go at a top speed of 140 or something. Fine, they can't do 140 on these small roads; but they can atleast do 40! You cannot get ahead of them from the right side. Oncoming traffic will smash into you. You cannot get ahead from the left side. Other people are trying to do that. My worst enemies are here also. Auto-rickshaws. Oh how I hate them! Also present, to aid these foul humans, are bad two-wheeler riders, with no idea of the uses of rear-view mirrors or indicators. Everyone of these gets in your way and delays you until you go mad.

Someday, a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.

I almost snap. I want to stop my bike the next time a guy gets in my way or runs across my path, go to him, hold him by the collar and yell at everybody there and say, Listen, you [swearword here]-ers, you screwheads, here is a man who would not take it anymore. A guy who stood up against the scum, the [foul word here]-s, the dogs, the filth, the s**t! Here is a man who stood up.

At my friend's house, further frustration. No Subba to pester. We sit among the low-life. The mosquitoes, the flies, the phylum insecta. Nothing of note happens. My friends comment on how odd I am behaving. I grant them that they are perceptive.

I am home an hour later. I am still with murderous rage. If I could find somebody I disliked powerfully right now, I would make them cry.

I look outside. It is almost time to sleep. A mother and a very small child are playing cricket. Yes, at night. Children throw strange tantrums. The child throws the ball. The mother swings wildly and misses. The ball goes harmlessly and hits a wall. The child laughs at her mother's miss. The mother says it is a six. No, you missed!! I saw you!! insists the child. This is a special case. If you miss like this, you get six runs, says the mother. The child is puzzled for a moment. Really? it asks. The mother looks at it for a moment. No, of course not, I'm kidding, she says. Child and mother laugh. Hug.

What the hell am I grumbling about?'

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh, that was very nice. Hey, if you feel bored, come home. Yaavaaglaadru. For example, ivattu baa. You can watch a movie here. How about "Killer's Kiss"?

Anonymous said...

Nivedita said...
Aww.

Arjun Sharma said...

Arjun says to Nivedita...
Shoo!! Away!! Scram!!

Arjun Sharma said...

I could watch "Killer's kiss," but I thought you had all that project work to do. Apparently, it is expected you will finish(single-handed, needless to say [smiley]) this project in two weeks time, from today. That is if you work hard everyday from today.

Whatever. Thank you.
*cry*

Finch, Scout said...

repeats after Nivedita,

awww..
:)

that's so precious!

Malaveeka said...

nice blog url!!