Al Ngullie
*This bluish Maruti Esteem roared out from somewhere behind and screamed right through two vehicles ahead, one driving up from the opposite direction. As the Maruti Esteem sped forward in a bid to overtake the vehicle ahead of the auto-rickshaw I was traveling in to office, a truck –obviously with the same reckless blood as the Esteem’s driver – roared straight out from the opposite line onto the oncoming Esteem. Time stood for a split second that somehow felt like eternity. Too late for the Esteem as it tried to tuck itself in a space among the line to avoid the on-rushing truck. The Esteem dashed its side mirrors across the right flank of the truck’s bumper, simultaneously dislodging another auto rickshaw that happened to alongside when the car veered off. Every vehicle screeched to a standstill badly shaken, but unharmed, most mercifully.
* But most unfortunate for the three middle-aged mothers who happened to be in the auto-rickshaw when this vehicle ploughed right through it at the Purana bazaar Junction, Dimapur some time back. All for some reckless, lawless, tactless driver, three families will go without a mother for the rest of their lives.
It is difficult not to harbor anger, albeit a hapless one, at drivers who hold little or no sense of safety, not only for their own but for others as well. A pity-trophy for all those who have little time for other’s life, people, because we don’t need telling that ignoring traffic propriety undoubtedly would mean a life wasted, literally. One cannot help, but feel sarcastic at those who own vehicles yet are stone-age drivers in all glory! O Lord God, bless the sensible, respectful drivers with more Maruti Zens!
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Year of Motor Sarcasm Fest 2006! (I’m the self-styled director of this festival). Clap. Clap. Clap. Dimapur traffic never fails to remind me of my own cooking – frenzied, hard, messy and clouds of carbon dioxide. The bad stomach soon after, is no consolation either. So what’s the common point of reference for my apocalyptic cooking and Dimapur traffic? The word deplorable. After hustling up a particularly lethal blob of food, I’d make sure my nose and eyes are tightly closed enough before swallowing my own crazy concoction, after which, it’s the usual frenzied scramble for the loo. In the final count, the only saving grace distinguishing my gastronomic expertise from Dimapur’s insufferable traffic is that after experiencing the latter, you don’t have to run to the toilet to frighten your septic tank out of its toxic contents.
Lapping up the bad race
Dimapur is a veritable Grand Prix where embarrassing road manners are a competition– Dimapur is the only city where you can take an illegal turn at 190%, beat 15 speeding vehicles straight up a 300KMPH stretch, smash into some poor guy’s vehicle and then scream at him “Traffic RULES NA-JANEE?!” Now that’s super eeeeks. Too bad we drive like we’d learnt driving through e-mail. If I get to save enough to buy my own car in future, it won’t be a car I’m gonna buy – a cycle rickshaw it will be – to show the world that I’m a traffic-respecting man who doesn’t speed. Cycle rickshaws don’t come with speed gears anyway.
Don’t you feel sorry for our dear traffic policemen? They roast their skin daily in the blistering Dimapur sun and fry up their heads (thanks to heavy-duty Ultra Doux hair oil), waving back and forth drivers who squabble and race like Kindergarten kids and what do our traffic personnel get in return? Their usual government salaries, of course. (What did you expect?) Jokes apart, we should allow education to our children lessons on patience, endurance and dedication and yes, alertness particularly in Dimapur, from our traffic policeman. Who else can stand 24/7 in the head-frying Sun and armpit-friendly heat of Dimapur all the while waving left, right and centre, unruly motors? These traffic people are heroes, yet unsung. A little bit of advice for our Dimapur Traffic policemen though: It’s ok, you can also admonish, shout and scream at Naga drivers too –not only at Cycle-rickshaw pullers or non-locals. Don’t worry, because not every driver is some biggie politician’s son/nephew/relative or an underground cadre in mufti.
Bostimanu Michael Schumachers in town?
Here’s the drivers part. Well, kids will be kids, y’know. Particularly, those “kids”, with huge black glasses, multiple-cellphoned and gold chains hanging around their bloated necks, and comfy in latest car models that Ford’s brood ever designed. These “kids” are either big-shot government officers or sons/nephews of filthy rich-fathers/uncles. Thank heavens that our world is so full of poor people like me otherwise if all the bratty sons/nephews have their cars out on the roads the Dimapur incident-fatality index would rise higher than City Tower. These rich brats would scream up from the rear, expecting to be given side like Chief Minister Neiphiu Rio gets (even in a 3-inch-wide road). As they swoosh by, they’ll give the auto rickshaw driver a dangerously ugly look which at best says “Who y’think you are, huh?” and at worse, “You stinking %$#@*&, stupid #$@*# insufferable $#@*&+~! This is my father’s road!!” Really, we should follow the teaching of Jesus Christ – remove the big blob of Mobil from your eyes before removing the Mobil splotch from the other driver’s eyes.
And oh, what about auto rickshaws? Well, they are a traffic parody that just found grace in the patronage of Stone Age mannerism. According to an auto owner there are approximately 46,000-50,000 auto rickshaws in Dimapur alone while another pegged it to around 80,000. The one thing, however we can be specific is, there only a few auto-drivers who are actually sensible. They are rarer than Blight’s Tragopan. Whether or not in thousands, it’s no secret most auto-rickshaw drivers fall eligible for a good lot of education in traffic ‘manners’. Admitted, they are a harassed lot, thanks to everyday traffic pressure, but they are also culpable for messing up the metro which at all, isn’t in anyway helping the situation: they annoy passengers, demand fares that at all are way beyond stipulated fares fixed by the administration; systemize overload practices fully aware it is dangerous, leave alone illegal; they overrun lanes, plug every possible space on the pavement, transform single lanes into four-lanes (we don’t need PM’s package for four-lane highways) and compete with each other who’d burn the tyres faster et al. The Dimapur Auto rickshaw Drivers Union’s (DADU) reputation would climb a notch higher from their obscurity if they actually organize sensitization programmes on traffic rules, undertake awareness campaigns, and devise campaigns for public “to have a gentler image of auto-drivers”. (What actually are the functions and tasks of the DADU? You hear of them only when there is either a hike in auto-fares or conducting elections, nothing more and never less).
And the public? Well, WE ARE the ones responsible for sustaining, albeit indirectly, the Dimapur traffic disease by keeping silent. We rant all best possible holier-than-thou tirades but no one’s actually doing or saying anything about it. That includes me. Come high auto-fares or fiery Petrol, we maintain loud hush even though we are milked dry in exchange for terrible services; organization keep busy only for projects and press releases; and our government is always busy replying to some opposing party’s there-is-no-development-ever-since-you-came-into-power attack. Hmmm…if there’s no work to engage at the moment, people, shall we take some time to think?
