I love zipping around in my car. To top it, Formula I racing is more than a mere passion for me. Although my Maruti is no match for Michael Schumacher's Ferrari, all it takes me to feel like the man himself is to get behind the wheel. One day, while imagining myself to be caressing a sleek, low-slung, zip zap zoom of a Ferrari, an earsplitting honk rudely brought me crashing back to the dinky Maruti I was driving. Oh, how I hate big jeeps and trucks that blare their way through city traffic, scaring everyone out of their wits! And I usually take it upon myself to teach them a lesson or two in driving. As always, I donned my imaginary racing suit and helmet, braced myself, and stepped on the pedal. My little car's even smaller engine squeezed out all the horsepower it had. But my rival aka Mika Hakkinen did not stop honking. He wanted way, and he wanted it NOW. This was getting interesting. If it's a race he wants, he is already in one, I thought smugly. Both vehicles hurtled along, at a sedate pace if you are still thinking Formula I. But fellow drivers were finding the pace too hot to handle, and were liberally cussing us for burning up the road. A smile crossed my mind as I boosted my confidence thinking his Sumo may be brawnier and speedier, but it would still have to overcome my aka Schumacher's superior driving skills. In my mind, I was Schumacher himself, coaxing the last ounce of power out of his Ferrari against Hakkinen hot on his tail in his McLaren. Suddenly, a big truck loomed ahead, blocking my path. My adversary hugged me tightly on my right, waiting for an opportunity to zoom ahead. Since he could see more of the road compared to me, the ever so slight advantage rested with him. I had prided myself on my cautious fast driving, but my rival did not seem to have any rules in his book. I deliberately slowed down moving slightly to the right, nullifying my opponent's advantage. The busy traffic going down the other side of the road ensured that he stayed behind me. The truck moved ever so slightly to the left in response to the infernal honking from our two speeding vehicles. I shot ahead and the traffic flowing down the opposite side closed the door, keeping my rival firmly behind the truck. But not before I caught a glimpse of him, cursing furiously. I was grinning ear-to-ear. My next obstacle was a traffic light. It was amber and about to turn red. If I stopped, I knew his powerful engine would give him a better start. So I decided to do the next best thing. I jumped the light. Just as I was crossing the light, it had turned red. I grinned. He would have to stop now. To my dismay and horror, he kept right behind me, missing an oncoming truck by a whisker. It was then that I realised I was dealing with a maniac. Like the proverbial angel, common sense told me to let go of the madness. But equally, the proverbial devil tempted me to keep at it. The devil won, as he reasoned that I had almost arrived at my destination. Even as the moral tussle was playing out in my mind, I did not see the blessed bovine saunter in front of me. Blessed because all it got for my crazy antics was a whack in its nose from my right rear-view mirror. I saw the bemused cow, dazed beyond comprehension, still as frozen beef. However, this slowed my enemy -- he wasn't a mere rival anymore -- who screeched to a halt to stop hitting the poor cow. By then, I was laughing aloud. My building had arrived. Feeling victorious, I could not resist the temptation to look at the Sumo. He did not bother to stop and pick up a fight. He just drove on and turned into the building two compounds away. It was the local hospital. That was when I noticed the two persons in the back. One person was frothing uncontrollably, while the other was trying to stem it, using an already sopping handkerchief. No words would suffice to describe the flood of emotions that racked me at that moment. I was not sure whether it was shame, shock, or mortification. But it was deep, vexatious and overwhelming, and lasted for days on end. It later gave way to anger at my own insensitivity. Driving is still a passion with me. But now I try to see that it doesn't become a rage. Hemant Kumar simply moves out of the way now if someone honks desperately. Tell us what you think of this diary Be part of an exciting venture! Write a Diary!
HOME | NEWS | CRICKET | MONEY | SPORTS | MOVIES | CHAT | BROADBAND | TRAVEL ASTROLOGY | NEWSLINKS | BOOK SHOP | MUSIC SHOP | GIFT SHOP | HOTEL BOOKINGS AIR/RAIL | WEDDING | ROMANCE | WEATHER | WOMEN | E-CARDS | SEARCH HOMEPAGES | FREE MESSENGER | FREE EMAIL | CONTESTS | FEEDBACK