Monsoons... a time city dwellers curse and farmers thank. the skies open up with full splendor letting out a cascade of shimmering drops, drops that clatter like the hoofs of a million horses, like the sound of a well orchestrated symphony consisting of just one instrument...
Just my luck to get caught in the middle of one such shower drenched to the bone riding puddle to puddle braving the showers sprayed by each passing vehicle. The feeling of being in the middle of such a situation takes one back to the time when as a little kid you wait for the rains for a couple of reasons though.... bunk classes.... make excuses... exciting games... playing... and well use your imagination!!!
riding with all this thought through the fine screen flashes the flouroscent green cross of a traffic cop... thinking to myself isn't he a dedicated one... well a thought shattered a second later when he pull a fellow motorist aside. A move that has me checking or rather scanning my memory to check if i have everthing my bike and satisfied with the thought in the affirmative.
Since i did have everything in order it boosted my ability to put up a brave front and wait at the traffic light taking in the proceedings... Imagine my shock when the cop whoo only second ago won my dedication was slyily slipping into his weather proof jacket a dry gandhi worth Rs.100. hmmmmm cops sure know when to pounce on the unsuspecting motorist and in the process make a wet bargain...
