One night of chaos in India

It all started when I left the shopping mall. The large and yet packed-with-cars avenue was duping the incautious dwellers with its traffic lights and the impractical number of headlamps. The glare was blinding them and everything seemed normal; whatever normal means in India. But I noticed the difference. Half the city was already under complete darkness and a thunderstorm was approaching.

My watch was marking 10pm sharp. The mall was closing and its staff was going home. For them, nothing else mattered, so selfishly minding their own business. But I noticed a flare. It came from the building across the avenue and it looked like it was exploding. And indeed its transformer had just blown and with it all the nearby electrical network, leaving a path of sparks over the wires like scary fireworks. I glimpsed at leaving the place but nowhere would be safe if the whole city was collapsing.

I took a rickshaw. This little devil, covered with some synthetic fabric, completely opened at the sides, was to me the fastest means to get out, zigzagging through cars in a cacophony of horns and moos and barks and shouts, in roads full of bumps and puddles. It was cold and the open sides meant no windows to close and a freezing wind surrounding my body. It was the heavy storm now all over, striking glances of light to the blackout. The lightning could be seen from a distance; 1, 2, 3 and there it was the thunder adding one more percussion to the cacophony.

With all the water everywhere, I should have expected what was coming next. A truck ran over and obviously hit one big puddle and splashed all of us. Remember, no side windows in the rickshaw. And after strings of curses from the driver, another truck came and, probably on purpose and on behalf of the previous truck, splashed us again. At least I think they were having fun.

When we finally reached destination, I was cold, wet, and in the dark when I realized I had to money to pay for the ride; Just a credit card. I didn’t speak Hindi or Kannada, he didn’t speak English. I tried to say sorry. But he probably cursed me as he did with the truck driver. The security guard of my building ended up paying him; what else could I do? Well, I did what I could to finish that day as soon as possible: took a shower and went to bed, hoping for a new day to come with better moods…

Note: This is a work of fiction. Although some true events inspired it, the intensity of the story is beyond possibly any reality. Even in India.