MG Road

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cdUPOvSXOo&NR=1

"I'm here on the left."

"Watch it buddy."

"Excuse me?"

"Coming through."

"Picking up."

"Turning left. I think..."

These are the voices of the horns. Vehicle horns. Some bark. Some fart. Some roar. All of them are employed in a chorus of raised voices to be heard amongst their peers. I've never seen traffic like it. It was ace; two lane roads may actually carry five lanes of traffic at any given point; families of four really can fit on one 90cc scooter; crash helmets, seat belts, and sometimes even doors, are optional pieces of road safety equipment.

Would I drive in it? Weeeeell, never say never, but I'm not sure I'd have the bottle, even if I had the excitement rush. See, I love white-knuckle fairground roller coasters, but won't go anywhere near the ghost train--it's the variables, you see: engineers have tested and retested their data to create a thrilling roller coaster, but all you need is one bored necromancer, Patricia Arquette and a group of Pennsylvanian plumbers with a penchant for the undead and who knows what kind of ride you'll get on the ghost train. I guess what I'm saying is there are too many other people on the MG Road who might not drive the way I want them to, or how the road engineers originally intended.

Or, to put it yet another way, I'm a .

Going to India was the trip of a lifetime. I was blown away by the friendliness, thoughtfulness and kindness of our lovely hosts and hostesses. There was so much to see and experience, from elephants to coffee plantations, temples to shopping malls, but the memory which fires my midnight imagination comes with a horn blast on the MG Road, petrol soaked dreams and flashes of brightly colored sarees billowing behind the burning ruby tails of motorbikes and fluttering in the light of oncoming diamond lights of auto-rickshaws.

I have no idea where my life's journey will take me, but I'm over the moon that part of it traveled the MG Road.