Our Unique Grand Prix!

Sometimes, my mind feels overwhelmed, and that's when I turn to writing here.

It's amazing how everything seems to come together when I decide to blog! Today being the 8th day, it was no surprise that I had to work in the office until 8 PM, which is not something I look forward to :-( What makes it worse is having to catch the 8 PM bus! The bus itself isn't anything out of the ordinary, but our driver, oh boy, let me introduce him. He's a die-hard fan of Rajanikanth (who isn't?), with a mobile phone loaded with all of his songs. He plays "Kilimanjaro, Yaro, Yaro" on a loop, and what's even more amusing (or maybe concerning) is that he hums along, making it sound like a suggestive grunt. :-p

For those who aren't familiar with the song, here's a link to the video! Click here.

Considering my high tolerance for eccentricities, all of this is amusing to me. :-p However, what is not amusing is our dear driver's driving skills. He must have been a skilled charioteer in a past life, maybe even the elder brother of Michael Schumacher in this life. He is the epitome of rash driving in India. He doesn't just hit speed breakers; he flies over them. Our mini-bus roars like a Ferrari in his hands. Sitting by the window is pointless because you won't get to enjoy the enchanting sights of Bangalore's nightlife. Instead, you'll see a blurred stream of objects whizzing past your window. If this guy were on the Buddh International Circuit, it would be perfect. Unfortunately, we have to navigate the pothole-ridden roads of Bangalore to reach home from work. Spending an hour on the 8 PM bus is equivalent to two hours at the gym. Every part of your body vibrates in harmony with the frequency of the potholes. The number of vibrations per second directly correlates with the depth of each pothole we encounter. But the interesting part is that before our brains can register one vibration, our driver has already taken us out of that pothole and into the next. In short, the entire hour on the bus feels like an intense session of Power Yoga, Pilates, and Baba Ramdev's twistology combined!

If our driver goes any faster, I have no doubt that our kidneys will detach themselves and launch into our mouths! :-p If you don't hold onto the seat handle, you might even get a free lesson in swimming, albeit on the hard, waterless floor of our mini-bus. :-| And if you make the mistake of leaving the windows open, be prepared for your eyeballs to pop out, your hairline to retreat into your collar, and your teeth to be plastered against your throat. The wind that blasts through the window when he speeds past on the flyover is incredibly intense! I once had my glasses flung across the seat and onto the floor. Today, I witnessed a lady settling into the opposite seat, book in hand, ready to read. Yeah, right! Sure, why not! Once we hit the main road, she realized she was in a time machine, not a bus. :-p And then she attempted to fall asleep, only to be rudely awakened by her head colliding forcefully with the seat rod. Oh, I know exactly where it hurts! It's all too familiar to me. :-D

When I look at people like our driver and myself, I feel a tinge of sadness for Mother India. Such precious talent goes to waste. Our driver could have been a Formula One racer, and as for me, well, I should have been the Prime Minister of India, don't you think? :-D I would have upgraded all the roads in Bangalore to six-lane expressways and transformed the entire country into one enormous Formula One circuit. Unfortunately, our politicians are only interested in money. :-| Anyway, moving on, if you missed out on the F1 spectacle in Noida, let me know. I'll reserve a seat for you on our 8 PM bus. :P And it's free... You know why? Because you'll pay me once you've experienced the ride... It's THAT good. ;-)

Now, it's time for me to rest my rattled body. Good night! :)