The race to cross a road in Mumbai!

By Priya Sheth

I was waiting to cross the road.  It was nearly six in the evening. The scorching afternoon sun had finally hidden behind the clouds. But there was still warmth in the air. I was on my way to the new cupcake bakery that had opened nearby. I looked at the signal, and then glanced at my watch. I was waiting to eat the red velvet cupcake that the bakery had recently introduced. I couldn't wait to get on the other side of the road. The traffic was maddening - honks, screeches, interspersed by a loud abuse or two made it worse.

 It was the worst time of the day to cross the road. Beside me stood three other people – all waiting to accomplish the same mission. Each one was looking out for the slightest opportunity to cross the road. It was a sort of undeclared race between the four of us. Each of us kept trying to step down from the pavement to make an attempt to cross the road – but a speeding car would get us back to the starting line. 

Mumbai's traffic-logged roads

 It was already fifteen minutes since each of us were waiting to cross. It was then that I realised that the signal was jammed. The green light was not turning amber or red. In a plea to outsmart the other three, I walked a little ahead. I took a deep breath, changed the direction of my sling and trotted ahead to take a chance.  In any case the starting line would remain unchanged.

It couldn’t be called a traffic jam nor could it be called free-flowing traffic. Cars of all shapes and sizes zoomed past me.A yellow Beetle rushed past me. A sky-blue Vespa moved carelessly between the gullies of cars. A spray-painted second-hand Accent with blaring music whizzed past. A monstrous Mahindra car passed by. An A-series Audi zoomed by me. Among these fancy cars were of course humble taxis ferrying passengers from one part of the city to another. There were also the red and black buses that were packed with passengers at this peak hour.

I looked at the signal, and then glanced at my watch. It was unfair that Mumbai had so much traffic.  There was only this crossing that was keeping me away from sinking my teeth into the cream-cheese icing on the red velvet cupcake.

Aagey se right!

Suddenly, a school bus passed by and then there was a gap. I took the chance – ran across to the divider and sadistically looked back at the other three competitors.  There were only two waiting - one was on the same stage as I was.  Damn, I thought.

Only half the street remaining to cross and only half the race remained to be won. It was already about half-an-hour.   I was now in the middle of all this traffic – with cars rushing past me in opposite directions. I was praying for that one little clearing that could get me closer to my cupcake.  My other competitor was waiting patiently.  I was getting desperate. I mustered courage and waved out my arm like a policeman.  One car zoomed by, but another considerate driver stopped. I moved towards victory. Waving out again, I stopped another car and there I was safe and sound on the other side of the road.    

I looked at the signal, glanced at my watch, wiped off the beads of sweat on my forehead and walked quickly towards my red velvet cupcake.