It has been a while, has it not, my frolicking mudskippers. Well fear not, this venerable charmer has not abandoned you. You can blame my infrequency on the recession and global weather changes. However, my musings will continue till the well starts to run dry and then I will run away to another location and carry on from there.
One of the constant factors in India that we always had to budget for was the traffic. Travelling is not straightforward there as heading from Yonge and Bloor to King and John (or Parliament Hill to Sussex drive if you are unfortunate lucky enough to live in Ottawa) might be.
Traffic in Delhi is not a stream but a raging torrent. In Jaipur, however, it was more akin to whitewater rapids… with sharks… with superlasers attached.. being ridden by bears… well you get the idea. Lanes are merely suggestions, and traffic lights are at best idealized concepts. Now granted that this might just be a small section of the city, but I sincerely doubt it.
Crossing the street is an exercise in physics. If car A approaches the intersection at 30 km/h and and is being driven by a man busy on his 22 cell phones, how many bodies does Car A need to dispatch before the sea of humanity forces it to stop before hitting you. The answer is dependent on how fast you can shove your friend.
The lesson that MT and I learned on our second day was to keep moving. As long as you can do that, the cars will adapt, but god forbid if you change your mind. That will lead to disaster. The other thingwe learned was the stick-your-hand-out-in-a- stop-please-gesture MANUeuvre(get it, huh? Huh? Huh?) . This complicated manoeuvre involves, and bear with me here, sticking your hand out in a stop-please gesture and walking. I am sorry if I got too technical there. There you go my lovely dumplings, armed with this knowledge you are now safe on the streets of Delhi. Assuming you know where the hell you are going because there are no street signs, and the streets have no names. Enjoy.
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