Accident

The splendours of a vibrant evening as people return home after work; a cool breeze blows as the heat of the day gives way to a shady sky. People and cars pass by, each with possible anticipation in their mind that makes for an ambiance different from the rush of the morning. Walking down the sidewalk I looked ahead at the junction to Jayanagar 4th block bus station. Still not feeling completely well I ponder if I should get corn for a snack or not. I smile and think of a similar walk to the bus station in the halcyon days of my youth with similar traffic and feel. A lot is similar but the burden of work and responsibility has increased and the young face has given way to shoulders that carry responsibility. I hear a loud thud and a white Tata Innova suddenly swerves and charges towards me. My mind calm, having relived this scenario many times and my feet steadily waiting for all that is to come. If life is a long corridor and death merely a door, than I have touched this door many times without opening it.

One of the beauties and sad things about travel is that the more harrowing and painful an experience, the better are the stories with which come out of it. These occurrences become both narratives and memories that can terrify, impress, and dazzle friends back home but leave scars both physically and psychologically.

A red Honda Centra hitting a white Tata Innova on the side at a 90 degree led to the white vehicle hitting the sidewalk and touching my clothes as it stopped. Clearly not how I had anticipated the corn purchasing debate in my mind to be resolved but was happy that I was not hit. Both the drivers came out with their cell phones already dialing some unknown number contacting higher powers that could help them resolve this. I am quickly forgotten while close I am not hit and the attention shifts to the passengers who come out and observe. The red car has its left front light and side damaged while the white car has the area above its left tire pushed in. From afar the damage looks minimal but the internal mechanisms of both these light weight cars have been damaged. The white car is a private taxi carrying youths while the red car has a family and a small child.

There is no overly heightened plight for a muscle that may have been slightly pulled resulting in a multi million lawsuit, but instead the focus is the accident and resolving the matter as cars and people attempted to make their way around it. The cars are moved to the side of the road and soon there was a small crowd recreating the accident in conversation and giving their viewpoints that stretched from the construction of roads to the increase in traffic in the city. I am involved in this diatribe as people also inform and ask for my viewpoints to which I nod before walking away unscathed.

My only compensation is that, this will become a memory and my sense of reality of how most people live across the planet is once again usefully expanded. I am freed, for a moment, from an illusionary sense of safety and control. At the end travel brings us into closer contact with reality and liberates us from the ideas we impose on the rest of the world. Still, it’s not what I would recommend for every traveler. Let's see what tomorrow brings.