The traffic in Mumbai is a nightmare. Even watching it from a distance is so disconcerting, imagine being in it. Everyday. For hours. The story of most of our lives. Traffic lights mean nothing to anyone, and traffic police have a disappointing sense of control. The honking is harassing, the lane-cutting ludicrous. The only sight that provides some relief is when your side of the road is moving, albeit at a snail’s pace, while the opposite side is stuck frozen in time. People working at ISRO will reach the moon before some of us manage to make it from Cusrow Baug to Malcom Baug swiftly and conveniently.
