Driving in India…!

IT was a sunny afternoon in the United States of America. My brother and I got into the
elegant Buick Century and readied ourselves for the long drive from Kentucky to New York. “Aren’t you bothered about me driving on the right side of the road?” asked my brother a little puzzled by my relaxed face.
“Just like back home,” I said closing my eyes with a smile. “What!” shouted my brother wondering whether I had gone mad, “I thought you guys drive on the left side of the road.”
“We drive on the left side on the right side and even on the centre of the road,” I said “that’s why we are at home anywhere. We are truly an international country!” My brother made no comment as he pressed down on the gas pedal and the needle settled down at the maximum speed limit allowed. “Cops all over with radars,” he said, “got to keep within the speed limit.”
Suddenly I watched a car zipping by much above the prescribed speed limit. “Hey, what about him?” I asked, “doesn’t the speed limit apply to him?” “He’s got a radar detector in his car,” said my brother, “it warns him when there are police ahead with radars, then he slows down. Best way to escape the law. Don’t you have them in India?”
“Don’t need them in India,” I said with a smug smile, “this is still the best way of escaping the law, “My brother watched as I pulled out my bulky wallet. “It’s never failed me, ever. Just bribe the police!”
We drove on in silence and I realized there was nothing much to see, except miles and miles of road ahead. “I miss the Indian highway scenery” I said in a bored voice. “What highway scenery,” said my brother a little angrily. “Look at the beauty of nature all around you, hills and plains and rivers.” “Back home,” I said wistfully, “there is so much to see mile after mile, trucks fallen off the road, passenger cars smashed to a pulp, a tanker bursting into flames, people lying dead on the road. There’s never a dull moment.”
“Maybe I need to come back to India,” said my brother. “You make it sound like an interesting place to drive across.” “You can be assured,” I told my brother, “that you will find it quite interesting. In fact a drive in our country is sheer adventure, ‘cause you’re not sure you’ll be dead or alive at the end of the journey.” My brother looked at me startled, then sat back, thankful he was not driving in the highways of India..!
— Email:bobsbanter@gmail.com

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