Huffing and puffing

Last night, I reached Chembur station to find the Harbor line not working. Was stranded as I didn’t know where to get a bus from, autos didn’t want to get caught in the Navratri fiasco, etc. Finally, I called my father to pick me up from Diamond Garden, and after much ‘Mashaal’ type walks up and down the road, I finally hopped into a rick to take me there. It was late and I couldn’t see the place where my father would be waiting for me. The rick guy, testy in traffic, snapped at me to ask whether I should go left or right.

I yelled at him to please be polite. Positively yelled. Loudly, raspily, with curdled blood and dripping ire. His voice came down a few notches and he politely told me that he was merely asking me to make up my mind as the light was turning green and the cars behind me would get antsy.

I calmed down and told him to take a left. Was appalled at my behavior, was amused by the situation – you can actually be a boor and make someone be polite. Reminded me of a T-shirt I used to wear in college: “O God, give me patience…but please hurry!”