I Cross the road to get to the other side

Growing up in a small town with few choices for higher education and career opportunities is not all that bad when today having moved to a city I see myself tied up in work from dawn to dusk; no friends; no neighborly chats and the ever busy streets that stretch on and on with vehicles in all colours and sizes screaming for space streaming in endlessly. And the result is that pedestrians are left behind. Crossing the road is an adventure. Every single day. Even after 20 years in the city for me crossing the roads is still an adventure. The traffic is not only congested but in total chaos because people in this city don’t care about the traffic rules. Traffic rules are not for us, Hyderabadis.. I remember those days clearly when I had moved to the city in the hopes of having a bright career. I did not own a vehicle and had to depend on public transport mostly the overcrowded buses or at times the auto rickshaws that refuse to run on meters. (I missed the small town with its tidy roads and organized traffic. No rush. No hurry. Everything moving at its own pace.) Well that was somehow the part I could manage – get myself to a bus bay and get into a bus (the right number after seeking help from others at the bay). The next was the part I feared most – crossing the road. I would wait and wait hoping for the vehicles to slow down and finally when they did; cross the road in a sprint. But often the waiting period cost me dear. I would be late for my workplace and cut a sorry figure. So the next option was requesting people who were crossing road to allow me to walk with them. Some people were really helpful they used to hold my hand and help me cross the road. But soon I realized they were not really ‘helpful’ they were just enjoying holding hands with a young woman while crossing the road. Ugh. I dint want that. I would cross the roads by myself I decided. No matter how much I steeled myself, I would get all jittery when I was on the road. Cars would screech to a halt or the bus driver would honk madly at me and those on the two wheelers were even more rude, they would shout, “ Aunty, marne ka irada hai kya?” I did not give hope. I observed people who crossed the roads. There were two groups. One that comprised of the brave confident people who crossed the road and the other comprised of senior citizens, the blind, small children and me – the not so confident group of people who also crossed the same road. After watching the group one for some days my confidence grew slowly and I learnt the knack of crossing the road at the right moment when the vehicles were thinner and correctly gauging the gap between the cars and my own speed of motion; to wait when there were heavy motors that could crush you; the safe moments to cross. It was all about timing. And after nearly 6 months (which I know is very long) I overcame the fear of crossing roads. And many times I recall the old joke: why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side, of course. It has now become one among the fears I no longer fear. Whilst there are still some fears I need to overcome. ‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’ http://forum.blogadda.com/images/wowbadge.png This entry got me a WOW badge!