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A tribute to the femme fatale...

A couple of days ago, I was returning home after a mad binging spree from the same good old road. The Mehrauli Road, or as they call it fashionably these days; the MG Road. I have seen this road that connects Mehrauli to Gurgaon; change from a sleepy long isolated track to the buzz of commercial activity all along. I guess, it is these changes in the roads, the infrastructure along side them, that eventually change the entire city. This is what happened with Gurgaon.

I have been using the MG road since I was in the fifth standard. That was 18 years ago. Those were the times when you could reach IIT from the IFFCO chowk in flat 30 minutes, if you drove fast enough. Fast, not rash. And now, it could take you anytime between 45 minutes to 120 minutes to meander the same stretch through malls, stray cattle, Metro construction and the ill-filled pot holes.

So, while maneuvering for a spot to wait for the light to turn green at the Chattarpur crossing, a bright maroon Wagon R edged past me in a fashion that I did not appreciate. And I wanted to give the driver, a frosty-nosed stare. I found it rather unusual that it was a Wagon R with a "GJ" number, because one usually doesn't find Gujarat registered cars running around on Delhi roads. But still, I had made up my mind, I will irritate this guy a bit. I soon got the golden opportunity, at the C-DOT blinker crossing, where there is usually a slowing down of the cars. And, the Maroon wagon R was behind me. And, it came as another surprise to find a young girl behind the steering wheel,wearing huge shades, and a top that matched the colour of her car ( I guess :P).

Most of the two-wheelers that stopped besides her, were obviously gawking at her (the national past time of guys). And she was looking dead ahead, almost killing me with the eyes I could not see. Her face had no expressions. She somehow intimidated me. I am, as many friends around me would vouch, a decent,safe driver. I do not honk unnecessarily, give my turning signals, and allow the passage and wait when it is required. But my temper goes berserk, when I find myself not being treated in the same manner, which happens every now and then. So, I make it a point to irritate the driver by meddling around a bit, not very much, and get to his notice that I exist too, on the road.

What was I going to do here? This turned out to be a girl. On one side, I did want to teach her a small lesson at driving (we all guys, even the activists who will do anything for female rights,will always keep a hunch in our minds that women don't drive well. However well trained). But on the other hand, I don't like this activity of bothering a female, who is already pestered by the rude cab drivers and gawking motorists who seem to think that females come from some different planet. But the air was very stifling, and I could not decide what to do. All this thinking happened simultaneously. And as the traffic cleared for the stretch where the farms lie along side the road, I somehow decided, that I won't let her overtake me. Some sort of taut urgency took over me.

To my utter horror,I saw her overtake me with elegance,in a matter of seconds. I, the proud owner of a well maintained silver wagon R was overtaken in a fair manner by this creature(I wanted to forget that she was a girl, so as to make my decision to race her an easier one to take). I could not stand it. I chased and chased. Traffic, that day, was to a bit on a heavier side but a skilled driver could manipulate it to his/her (I'll have to use her here) ways. She was doing exactly the same. Racing forward. I too was, but usually with some brakes. It was one of the most terrific drives I had ever witnessed. And it was a girl. Her brake lights rarely tinkered. This meant that she was managing her speed and turns with an experienced feline touch at the accelerator. And there was absolutely no honking, either from her or from the cars she over took. Everyone seemed to be OK with her moving, well...because she was driving OK.

I was dazed. Truly. But I had to win. It was a one sided race, in the chamber of my own agitated mind. I finally succeeded at the Ghitorni Red Light. And from then on, I constantly kept an eye on her, wondering whether to awe at her lovely driving skills or her beauty. She was still fast, and I had to press harder to stay ahead. I lost her at the milling crowd near the DLF City Centre. The beauty obviously had to buy some beauty products. No one escapes the mall glitz. But I still wasn't satisfied. I wanted to beat her hands out. I was left for a longing to prove more. I maintained a furtive look at the rear view mirror, until I parked my car that day. It was an awkward feeling, that I possibly can't describe.

Comments

  1. Why you jealous bum! lolz i wish you could get her into racing with you...she would win! lolz hahahaha! Plus not all women necessarily shop for beauty products all the time ok!

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