Mystery of the Missing Driver in the Traffic Jam

Traffic system in Indore definitely deserves a place in the wonders of the world. When we step outside our premises and embark on this adventure called road travel in the cleanest city of the country, it is always with a prayer in our hearts and trepidation in our minds. With the fedayeen  like drivers of two wheelers on the road, one has to be on the lookout not just in front or sides but rear and actually top and bottom as well, as you never know, where is the next one going to emerge from. They are of course honour bound to carry minimum two or three pillions with them, more on the subject can be perused here  (https://thesuyashsharma.com/darr-ke-aage-jeet-hai/ ).

Yesterday, as usual  I was whiling away my time on my laptop, pretending to  be busy keying in yet another one of those attempts  to humour myself as an author and a satirist. The better halves can see through all these pretensions and turn us into go-getters straight away. So here I was, tasked to visit the vegetable market to pick up the veggies for dinner, as fasting didn’t seem to be such a good idea. I had just about gone a km when found myself in a traffic jam. Now that is not anything unusual in any of the metros or two/three tier cities, and one learns to be patient to withstand the cacophony of the rich ensemble of the horns blaring at their full glory. So one was perched behind the wheel, Buddha like, waiting for the traffic to finally return to its normal flow. After about five minutes, I realised that, there doesn’t seem to be any activity remotely resembling movement of any vehicle and continuous honking was taking a toll on my eardrums as well. My trance stood compromised and I was forced to get out of the car and went off in the general direction to ascertain the cause of this jam. I had barely gone about ten steps, wiggling between the vehicles, thanking my stars that I had maintained a lean figure else someone with any hint of a belly would definitely have got stuck in between. I spotted the culprit, a white Swift Dzire parked right in the middle of the road, with the driver missing in action. A black coloured Thar was facing the opposite direction having taken a partial u turn again in the middle of the road, but having got stuck for lack of space, stranded at a peculiar angle with no room for manouvre. There was a lady sitting in the passenger seat of the Dzire oblivious to the happenings around, engrossed in her mobile. Highly irritated, I knocked at the window, she was startled and if looks could kill you would not be reading this but my obituary instead. Once a soldier, always one, so despite the risks involved of being at the receiving end of her wrath, I asked her to lower the window and enquired about the mystery of the missing driver. She pointed in the direction of the Sulabh Toilets on the other side of the road and returned to her mobile. I was at a loss, not having understood as to why did she point in that general direction and repeated my question. She glared at me as though I was some imbecile and again pointed in the same direction uttering  “toilet” and her eyes went back to her screen. Now it dawned on me that the poor sod had to attend to the nature’s call and the pressure must have been unbearable, so he left the car and ran to the toilet.  I can understand with probably a weak bladder he must not be wanting to soil his clothes, so he didn’t have any time to park the car. 

The Thar driver probably felt he was in an Alto, with similar turning radius and having missed a turn decided to just take a U turn, but to give him some credit, at least he was at the wheel and did not abandon  it altogether. The responsible citizen in me nudged me to get in action, so I took on the mantle of the traffic police constable and directed some of these vehicles, pushed some back and ensured that the Thar could execute her turn and make a getaway, thereby clearing the road for some movement. In the meanwhile, the driver of the Dzire walked in nonchalantly, got in the car and started honking the horn dutifully.