Why is Pune traffic so horrible?

We all will agree that this information hungry age is hungrier than Dobby looking for “his precious” on steroids.

With information comes questions. People part of this age love to question. Who let the Bieber out? Why do people remake movies? Can Shahrukh’s DNA be altered to make him invisible, to me? Can our PM scream if he sees 10 foot lizard? Far far too many questions.  Hell British people can’t even greet without one. My only landlord used to wolf out a “heaah youh arrhite mate” whenever we met.  Firstly I felt this burning desire to run to a temple to pray in hope that he said “mate” and not “maid”.  Secondly, I never knew how to respond to this or if he even wanted a response as it could easily be a statement of fact. Faced with the dilemma of either replying by saying “I’m good thanks. What about you?” which would have made me sound like a 16th century maid with stockings or by saying “Thanks” for stating the obvious fact defining my well being which he can see first hand. I safely chose “Good good.. you?” which seemed to work while hoping the next time I really don’t see him fearing I might correct him.

Along with all these questions, the biggest question now though is “why is Pune’s traffic so horrible?” Well maybe for Puneites only. Well maybe for Puneites who have stayed in other cities sometime in their life.

I know I speak for most Pune drivers when I stress the need for tazers in front of all automobiles. It is so hard not to drive angry these days. I remember a time when I used to even day dream of kick starting my beloved Yamaha RX-100 and go for a nice drive to study in my god forsaken college.  Well maybe not the latter but I really could live out the dream by actually doing it. There was traffic. There was honking.  Hell even abusing. But there was not a trace of stress. I used to see people smiling. Well maybe not the latter but I really could see people.

All I feel like now is Justin out on a baby tricycle surrounded by Agent Tanmay’s with banana skins travelling together in a satanish exhaust cloud.  Like a patriotic citizen, I patiently wait when the signal turns red. I get a nice earful from the vehicles behind me. Making a note of how I want to record their voices and horns to play over and over again every morning as a replacement for the daily ear buds. They squirrel out of the tiny place between my bike and the divider and run the traffic light while driving towards their death. I am pretty sure these guys do not have families or responsibilities. Then again I see a guy with a cute looking kid sitting in front of him on a bike breaking the lights.  Well maybe he’s got a premium life insurance. Well maybe he got his kid insured too. Well maybe he is running to the hospital to urgently remedy the spastic diarrhea he is suffering from. I put my bike into gear and leave when the light’s green and find him doing a simple 20 kmph a few hundred meters down the road. That discards the diarrhea then. This could be a disease rather than a medical emergency.

On a more serious note, this could be a deadlier disease. One that spreads like a wild fire slaying everything in its way.

A disease where we forget to question the value of our life. Where we forget to question the importance of the lives of the ones we would leave behind, the grandparents, kids who will have to fight alone to cross the road full of people breaking traffic rules or stopping on pedestrian crossings. Where we would rather pay to insure our life than to wear a helmet and protect it. Where we honk the brains out of a van carrying school children or where we decide to chase a speeding ambulance to make up for lost traffic time. Where we chose to save penny to buy a car on loan and then risk life and money which we do not have while violating rules in it. A disease where we plan and make investments to ensure enough money for the kids school donation and then make him sit solo without a helmet while running a light or talking on phone on the bike.

We then question the morality of traffic constables. Rightfully? We then question the infrastructure spending. We question the government.

And then we blame.

Can we please start questioning ourselves?