February 01, 2010

in a tearing hurry to be late

Indians, as most of us would know, are not exactly lauded for their punctuality. We're perennially late - for meetings, for appointments, for parties, for weddings, possibly even exams. We also tolerate other people's disregard of our time with remarkably good humour. Obviously, since we've done the same to him or her or are very likely to do so someday.
Which is why the complete absence of patience in anyone driving/riding/pushing/kicking/sitting on any sort of moving contraption (vehicle is a severely limiting word for Indian roads) on Indian roads is a complete mystery to me. Everyone on the road seems to be involved in a loony race where even the tiniest victory is achieved by incessant honking, incredible amounts of mathematical calculations ( all of which are an impossibility), extreme faith to be able to disregard the mathematical conclusion and go ahead with whatever route occurs to the driver/rider/pusher/kicker/sitter on the spur of that moment.
We danged well know we're late for whatever it is we're headed for but shaving off three nanoseconds by -
1. Honking at everything in front of you till your kingdom come
2. swerving dangerously close to the oncoming traffic or the other lane to show the guy in front of you that you mean business and pray he gives you way and scoots a bit to the side
3. risking life & limb, cutting off the other guy behind who's trying to do the exact same thing to you and zooming through the tiny window of opportunity eked out
4. avoiding the guy from the opposite lane who's also successfully carried out honk-swerve-zoom operation
5. triumphantly cruising ahead savouring the joy of getting ahead
- gives us joy only equaled by the joy Indians feel when we haggle something for free from someone.
We will wait with infinite patience for meetings to begin; if movies start late we contentedly eat yet another samosa; classes beginning late is perfect, in fact we're ok if they don't start at all and a million other such things. But put us on a road and we will turn into raving lunatics with a sole purpose - to get ahead of the thing in front of us. Somehow. Anyhow.
Come to think of it this strange behaviour is not limited to roads. It seems to apply to all things moving - buses, elevators, airplanes and even lines!
Ever waited for an elevator with a group of people? The doors would have just started opening and there is everyone scrambling to get into it. So what if there are people who might be waiting to get out. They're most likely other Indians and if they haven't learned the art of pushing ahead by now, well there's pretty much no hope left for them in life.
Lines or queues are supposed to move. In principle. In India lines just like traffic lanes are actually fictional. It's against our religion (You know all the different religions there are in India? Well it's against all of them) to stand in line. So instead of an orderly first-in-first-out kind of sequence Indian queues actually resemble a perfect model of Brownian Motion which is easily explained by the fact that everyone wants to be the first person in the line. If you try to politely remind someone who's brazenly cut in front of you that you're in line his laughter will echo in your ears till your dying day. Why do all of us want to be first in line? So that we can finish whatever we have to quickly and then spend the time saved in ensuring we're late for whatever it is we're supposed to do next.
So my fellow Indians hurry away. The next thing to be late for awaits you!