Disclaimer: Any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental.
Once there was a family travelling in a car and I was watching the events around them unfold. Why this family? No no, its not what you think. Its not because I am omniscient or omnipotent or any mumbo-jumbo like that. I had an itch as I happened to pass their car by and I stopped.
The family comprised of a father, mother and their three sons. The parents were highly educated and it was obvious that it was a well-to-do family. The father was the one driving. Rather skirmishly too, for someone his age. He had an air of superiority that could be witnessed in the average Indian chauvinist male. And the rest of the family seemed to be acutely aware of it too for no one spoke like it was a normal family road trip. I looked at the mother. She was systematically oppressed by the husband and felt helpless like most average oppressed Indian wives. The sons seemed like they had had enough of the whole charade that they seemed to be immersed in. It probably felt like a bad joke in a masala TV serial.
The air was suffocating and any sense of joy was being sucked out. It was all very depressing. I was about to bid good riddance when it happened. The car sped up and veered to the right ever so slightly. BANG! The car had hit the small truck on the right lane.
In a moment, everyone in the car (including yours truly) understood what had happened. The father had lost his concentration momentarily which led to the mishap. Well, at least there was no harm done to any person. Relief? Not quite. But as it turned out, there was one person who wasn't quite so clear as to how the events had transpired - the father. His face turned red in rage and he pulled over to the left side of the road. He got out and angrily motioned to the truck driver to pull over.
The rest of the family got out too. Nervous looks were exchanged as their eyes fell on the big dent. They knew that this meant trouble. The car was a luxurious SUV and it was very new and barely had any scratch on it. Oh boy! I felt bad for them because I saw the fear in their minds. They were worried about how the father would handle the situation.
What ensued then was a heated verbal joust between the two drivers. And before you knew it, a cop was on the scene. The truck driver tried explaining calmly what had truly happened. He explained that it wasnt his fault, and that he was going smoothly in his chosen lane. But hey, the father was not about admit his fault. Shamelessly, he accused the socially outclassed truck driver of rash driving. The cop figured that the well dressed gentleman with the luxury car (and therefore rich) was the beleaguered party and sided with the father. The other man was cornered.
I saw a glimpse of helplessness and sympathy in the son's eye as he watched from afar. The rest of the family knew better than not to get themselves involved in the scenario. To maintain silence was the only way to maintain peace at home. Selfishness and instinct of survival overruled the sense of justice in them.
It was at this point that I felt sick. I wished I could do something. Then I realized my folly. I was a powerless God, who could only watch and listen and travel at superluminal speeds. A glorified audience to the atrocities of men, that was all that I was.
In fifteen minutes, everything was rounded up and the journey resumed with the father insisting still that it was the other drivers fault. Shame felt by the sons were making me nauseous. And as they looked at each other with disgust glistening in their eyes, I felt myself vaporize - a pathetic apparition.
Sad. But True. And Sickening.
Once there was a family travelling in a car and I was watching the events around them unfold. Why this family? No no, its not what you think. Its not because I am omniscient or omnipotent or any mumbo-jumbo like that. I had an itch as I happened to pass their car by and I stopped.
The family comprised of a father, mother and their three sons. The parents were highly educated and it was obvious that it was a well-to-do family. The father was the one driving. Rather skirmishly too, for someone his age. He had an air of superiority that could be witnessed in the average Indian chauvinist male. And the rest of the family seemed to be acutely aware of it too for no one spoke like it was a normal family road trip. I looked at the mother. She was systematically oppressed by the husband and felt helpless like most average oppressed Indian wives. The sons seemed like they had had enough of the whole charade that they seemed to be immersed in. It probably felt like a bad joke in a masala TV serial.
The air was suffocating and any sense of joy was being sucked out. It was all very depressing. I was about to bid good riddance when it happened. The car sped up and veered to the right ever so slightly. BANG! The car had hit the small truck on the right lane.
In a moment, everyone in the car (including yours truly) understood what had happened. The father had lost his concentration momentarily which led to the mishap. Well, at least there was no harm done to any person. Relief? Not quite. But as it turned out, there was one person who wasn't quite so clear as to how the events had transpired - the father. His face turned red in rage and he pulled over to the left side of the road. He got out and angrily motioned to the truck driver to pull over.
The rest of the family got out too. Nervous looks were exchanged as their eyes fell on the big dent. They knew that this meant trouble. The car was a luxurious SUV and it was very new and barely had any scratch on it. Oh boy! I felt bad for them because I saw the fear in their minds. They were worried about how the father would handle the situation.
What ensued then was a heated verbal joust between the two drivers. And before you knew it, a cop was on the scene. The truck driver tried explaining calmly what had truly happened. He explained that it wasnt his fault, and that he was going smoothly in his chosen lane. But hey, the father was not about admit his fault. Shamelessly, he accused the socially outclassed truck driver of rash driving. The cop figured that the well dressed gentleman with the luxury car (and therefore rich) was the beleaguered party and sided with the father. The other man was cornered.
I saw a glimpse of helplessness and sympathy in the son's eye as he watched from afar. The rest of the family knew better than not to get themselves involved in the scenario. To maintain silence was the only way to maintain peace at home. Selfishness and instinct of survival overruled the sense of justice in them.
It was at this point that I felt sick. I wished I could do something. Then I realized my folly. I was a powerless God, who could only watch and listen and travel at superluminal speeds. A glorified audience to the atrocities of men, that was all that I was.
In fifteen minutes, everything was rounded up and the journey resumed with the father insisting still that it was the other drivers fault. Shame felt by the sons were making me nauseous. And as they looked at each other with disgust glistening in their eyes, I felt myself vaporize - a pathetic apparition.
Sad. But True. And Sickening.
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