Traffic Shenanigans
It was sunset, and The Woman from Madras Musings was rather enjoying the drive across Adyar bridge when she was distracted by a car cruising alongside. It was the strangest thing. A largish phone (tablet?) had been mounted at eye level, and the screen was playing a TV show, presumably so that entertainment was at hand when navigating a car through bumper-to-bumper traffic became too boring to endure. The TV show happened to be a favourite of WoMM’s; the lead character is a misanthrope who would have said something rather cutting to the driver if hehad broken the fourth wall. Well, what about you, WoMM? Did you open your mouth at all? WoMM is sorry to say that she did not; the last thing she wanted was to make a scene in public. Everyone else seemed to be of the same vein, too – people peered in curiously, drew a sharp breath at the audacity once they understood what was happening, and then satisfied themselves with the occasional side-eyed glare. WoMM was hoping that the traffic policeman down the road would chastise the driver, but alas! The car drove past him and disappeared at a bend ahead.
WoMM recalled that the law had once (quite correctly, too) chastised a friend for checking messages on the go, and wondered aloud how the policeman hadn’t noticed this flagrant violation. The good driver pointed out that the perpetrator was a young woman, and sensing an aura of great outrage, quickly explained that policemen were disinclined to stop members of the gentler sex. WoMM disagreed. She’d been asked – on many an occasion, in fact – to blow into a breathalyser under suspicion of being tipsy when she was merely admiring the view outside. D diplomatically refrained from responding to the fact but did admit that this seemed to be a new trend amongst drivers; many, men and women alike, are multitasking with their phones while driving. He claims to have caught people watching movies and even attending video calls at the wheel. The worst of them all, he said, had been a chap who’d been watching the live stream of a drama in progress at a popular sabha in the city. D had itched to ask the fellow why he wouldn’t just go to the sabha in person instead of risking his life and everyone else’s to watch the damn thing – but, like WoMM and the rest of the world, had shied away from the possibility of a bloody nose and had held his tongue.
WoMM remembered this incident the very day when the traffic cop stopped her car claiming that the driver had jumped the signal (he hadn’t). Such is life.
Big Brother strikes again
The Woman from Madras Musings has, she thinks, made mention of the watchman in her flat – a.k.a Big Brother. He has grown to play a prominent role in WoMM’s life. The man is bestowed with a work ethic that would bring tears to the eye of any HR manager worth his (or her) salt – not only does BB keep a keen watch over the premises, he also makes regular phone calls to ensure that the residents under his care are hale and healthy. BB calls the Better Half twice a day without fail to make sure that meals are had on time and the day’s exercise has been attended to. He also dishes out key information to B.H about what time the maid came, whether WoMM had any visitors, his personal opinion of the guy who cleans the car and so on and so forth. Woe to the delivery chap who has to drop off a parcel at WoMM’s house – he is put through an elaborate interrogation before entry, and even then BB lingers at the stairs during the delivery process, with a baleful glint in his eye. Things have come to such a pass that these poor fellows now fairly throw the parcels at WoMM as soon as she opens the door and then run away as fast as they can. WoMM once asked BB who exactly checks the guest register he intimidates people into signing. Turns out that no one reads it, but BB does it anyway to strike fear into hearts that may otherwise be tempted to do evil.
The other day, WoMM and the B.H were having dinner at a nice restaurant by the beach when BB called. B.H later described his voice as ‘trembling with a sort of breathless excitement.’ It transpired that BB was drinking tea at the corner shop and enjoying a chat with the teamaster when he spied B.H’s car taking a left turn just down the road. Knowing that B.H was at dinner at the very moment, BB concluded that the car was being robbed; he ran after the vehicle and, managing to overtake it in spectacular fashion, leapt in front of the driver and slammed his palms on the hood. (The car, WoMM was later glad to hear, was going slowly enough to accommodate this burst of heroism.) The driver – in truth a chap from the service center who was merely attempting to return the car and had gotten lost on the way – was properly startled. It was at this juncture that BB had called B.H triumphantly, claiming that the thief was even now blinking at him like a fox caught in the chicken coop.
It took some explaining to make BB understand that the circumstances were innocent, after all; BB wasn’t quite prepared to relinquish his moment of valour. B.H assured him that he was extraordinary nevertheless, and his act of gallantry was wonderful indeed. The service fellow agreed fervently, adding it damn near gave him a heart attack. BB was suitably gratified and made friends with the driver, allowing him to park the car in its proper place in the garage. He still made him sign the guest register, though.
Trending
The Woman from Madras Musings came across a fairly viral tweet which described ‘the ideal woman.’ An accompanying collage had photos of a Indian sportswoman doing different activities. According to the person who posted the tweet, the ideal woman is one who (a) can use a sewing machine; (b) wears ‘decent’ clothes; (c) is religious; and (d) makes the nation proud by winning a bronze at the Olympics. WoMM thanked the stars for B.H. and decided she’s had enough internet for the day.