TRAFFIC JAM

As a regular user of the Poonamallee high road, I am quite aware of the traffic snarls. It is a common sight. That can be termed as ‘normal traffic jam’. Two days ago it was not the case. It was more than what it used to be, abnormally high.

The roads have been opened up for repairs for expansion purposes and the two lane system is now temporarily one lane system accommodating the heavy flow from both the sides. Thanks to the Metro Water board who on their part have made the one lane just a narrow path. Adding to the woes was the breakdown of three MTC buses. In order to reach their destinations quickly I was witnessing motorists and car drivers taking the wrong route. Arguments filled the air as to who should back and leave way was debated along side blaring horns having no good effects. The end result was that the vehicles from both the sides were locking horns with each other and I could sense immobility would prevail for at least an hour. Observing things going around sitting in the window seat of the bus seemed to be the best way to beat the state of absolute motionlessness and scorching heat. I was petrified by what I saw. Let not the imagination fly away to someone dying to be reached to the hospital in an ambulance. Thank God, I could see no ‘saviour on wheels’ as far as my vision could penetrate but it was a school van with a caption on its wind screen as below “URGENT, CARRYING STUDENTS FOR THE CBSE EXAMS” in the opposite direction. Making a head room I peeped out of the window and if my eyes hadn’t deceived me I could see anxious faces with beads of perspiration holding their economics text books unable to do anything but remain calm and pray. Since I passed out of the same board system I knew the timing of the exam and my instantaneous reflex was to glance at my watch. My heart leapt. There was only thirty minutes left for the examination to begin. Only we remained where we were but the time was whiling away. Every clock tick was proving to be precious.

Their prayers were answered. The road ahead opened up slowly in both the directions. I turned my head back and amidst the trail of smoke left behind by the vehicles I could see the school van moving ahead.

WHAT DO I CALL THIS PHOBIA?

Travelling by Metropolitan Transport Corporation (MTC) buses, the carrier of Chennai’s masses is no longer enjoyable to me due to the harassment I suffered at the hands of its ticket checking officials. I fear neither the rickety buses with their rusted handles that may cause injuries or brakes that fail to work, neither the conductors or drivers who scorn and yell but the very presence of the MTC ticket checking officials at the bus stops would bring shivers down my spine, even with a valid ticket!!

I have diagnosed myself with this strange phobia right from the moment a group of ticket checking inspectors pounced on me asking me for the travel ticket two years back. I had bought a ticket as soon as I had gotten into the bus but only when it was verified I realized that the conductor had issued the wrong one leaving me in doldrums. What else I could have done other than cut a sorry figure for the mistake which I had not committed? My points of defense failed to convince the authorities and as a result I was forced to board the official jeep where I found myself in the august company of college students who were really ticketless. On way to the nearest depot, I was threatened with serious consequences if I failed I pay the spot fine of five hundred rupees. These men were asking me to pay an amount ten times more than what I usually carry in my wallet. Forcibly I was made to mortgage my gold ring (I had worn it only that morning) at a pawn broker's shop which I believe was hand in glove with the authorities for such activities. This harrowing experience has brought in me a weird habit of checking my pocket often for the travel ticket bringing stares from other passengers.

What do I call this phobia???

Entries are welcome to name it.