Horn Ok Please.

Posted by Amit Uppin
September 3, 2017

Self-Published

Life is pointless.

Imagine you are walking down a decrepit lane in your country, the dirt and filth strewn around in every corner, the bags of garbage disgust you’re the living shit out of you, the sun almost setting down in the horizon. It’s blaze oblique to the earth’s equator at the current moment in space and time, perennially changing, it’s heat nevertheless gets the insides of your underwear wet and the only thing that gets you going is that cool feeling of satisfaction when you go home and sit under the ceiling fan positioning your bums slightly in a better position to get the maximum amount of turbulent airflow to your pants. And if you are wondering, chee chee I don’t do all that, very decent boy I am. Nevertheless you’re walking and someone decides that the world is going to end by a terrible meteor apocalypse and the only to save it is by honking incessantly. A 1000 other motorists join in this ritual to save the planet, your ears shirk and your brain screams internally asking you to run to safety in this terrible sub saharan African exercise. But nevertheless you control your breathing by doing a patanjali yogic exercise and scoot to safety only to find that the honking doesn’t stop, so you decide to ignore the urgent businessmen who probably earn in billions and that’s why they must be in such a hurry, 9% GDP just doesn’t come like this you know, you have to honk your way to glory; that’s how the big boys do it.

You safely find your way home, surviving the motorists and placid cows who abruptly decide that the spot right in the middle of the road looks juicy, so he fits and he decides to sits; the other motorists don’t seem to take this too seriously though, revered as the animal of 7billion gods, any traffic jam caused by the cows is okay. Randomly in some corner of the neighborhood some pious man walks up with a plastic bag of trash from his home, the leftover food from the past 4 days with some amount of chicken maybe? Who knows, and walks up to the corner with a board put up saying,“Yette kachra takkun kauka”, and proudly flings the plastic bag. The trajectory and aim was so good, makes me wonder why don’t we Indians have an Olympic medal in the throwing events yet. So he throws with such aim near the cow whose whole anatomy of the rib cage visible is happily munching on the little patches of food in the dump. The dogs nearby waiting to scavenge on the newly arrived bag of goodies, but poor thing gets scared off by the cow, all this while the man says “Hutch” to the dog, and jumps his way over the cow and touches his head with reverence and so called veneration, closing his eyes and uttering a small prayer, marked with such deep respect makes you wonder if he had amrut straight from the heavens for the cow.  Veneration seems to be an ironic word in India. The poor cows don’t look like there are 7 billion gods in them but like they are atoning for 7 billion sins by eating the plastic bags and dying a slow painful death after it being stuck Living amidst the dust, sound and incessant honking, yea venerated is the word.

So one day I’m riding on my bike on the road minding my own business and there seems to some sort of a stall ahead, vehicles don’t move and I’m stuck, now this respectful individual behind be decides to use his super power to make the traffic move, he honks. And he doesn’t have the normal horn on his vehicle he decides to get this special horn from the store that apparently makes traffic move faster, he uses it on me; “Honkkkk.” Now I’m a proper citizen so I do not intimidate him much but in fact stay put but somehow this brilliant PHD doctorate man who knows how to get the traffic moving honks again and this time longer. My anger is incensed and so whirl around and ask him “Abbey, udd ke jane wala”. Poor thing realizes his mistake and gesticulates me asking, “Hua kya hai agge”. Now hold on a second I think there might be something I am missing here. The traffic holdup is atleast 50 feet ahead of me and I am 3 feet from him, now considering the field of view and distance, he expected me to know what is going in the front magically like as if he was going to go there and solve the whole situation with his horn. Maybe he would. Who knows?  

 

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