Anormal day for the average Delhiite begins with a litany of complaints. More often than not, this centres around the burgeoning traffic and the implications of this on the route to work. There’s also a general opinion that things are more organised in the West. I used to think so too. But there’s obviously more than one thing we inherited from the Raj. One of these, I discovered on a drive to Birmingham Airport. A journey that made me realise that the Brits and us, are in a sense, blood brothers.
My folks had enjoyed their stay in England and it was time to go home. Leaving at 8 to cover the hour-long distance for an 11.30 am flight was always a safe bet. But en route, at 8.20 am, I got a call from a concerned friend saying there had been an accident on the motorway heading south. That’s where we were headed. How bad could it be, I figured? We just had to cross this one junction and could then take the side roads. We had enough time and after all, if push came to shove, I would manage.
We were still a couple of miles from the junction when I noticed vehicles stalling. No need to panic, it’s only a couple of miles. I casually checked the time — 9.30 am and we hadn’t moved an inch. But I was a man in control, at least, I had to appear to be. I informed my parents that everything was just fine. Another half hour and we were still there. The English have this strange custom, an empty lane on the side of every highway that is kept for emergencies and the like. No one moves on to it normally, but it is enough to test the patience of any red-blooded Delhi driver.
Follow your heart, my inner voice screamed. Rules are meant to be broken. I called my friend and asked for advice.
{{/usCountry}}Follow your heart, my inner voice screamed. Rules are meant to be broken. I called my friend and asked for advice.
{{/usCountry}}In a slightly raised voice, he advised me against it. I resisted temptation and then looked at my mother. I offered up a silent prayer, dismissed wild thoughts of being incarcerated in England and took the hard shoulder.
Incidentally, we called the airlines explaining the situation. They said they’d wait but wouldn’t delay the flight. With the help of that best of inventions, the roadmap, we muddled our way through and made it ten minutes before departure. Logic dictated we were too late but fortune favours the brave. A query elicited the information that the flight was full. Again, being from Delhi came in handy. Someone was sitting on our confirmed seats, I stated flatly.
They not only apologised, but also upgraded my parents to business class. My mother finally smiled.