Still waiting on that green light

Who doesn’t remember the hare and the tortoise story? Especially the moral: slow and steady wins the race. But really, the tortoise didn’t have a choice – all it could do was crawl. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? You, in your designer cage — crawling to work at speeds measured in centimeters per hour.

It’s just Tuesday… The red light hangs low and afar, like the sun sinking into the sea -- but somehow, it's the red light that feels more romantic. You can see an Audi on your right and a farm tractor on your left. You might call it “diversity” if you’re seated comfortably or “inequality” if you’re fighting for what’s yours. Same roads, different rides. 

Some of us are just trying not to fall over, or worse, topple into a pothole.  

But really, a pothole– 

Well, potholes level the playing field. 

And come on, it's not fair of you to ask for fixed roads when you paid road taxes once – when you bought your vehicle – a lifetime ago. And of course, the real villain here—gravity. Just imagine the weight of raindrops hitting those freshly laid roads at full speed. Potholes are bound to happen. If you want perfectly built roads, make the rain stop. How? Well, for starters, deforestation is already in progress.  

Despite the bumps and cracks, the road refuses to be dull. It is so full of life that even the air politely asks for some space, while the vehicles try to warm the mornings. 

And speaking of politeness, pedestrians are the absolute champions. When there is just enough space for you to speed from centimeters to inches, they appear out of nowhere, raise their hand, just at hip level, like a saint bestowing a blessing – and somehow, you hit the brakes. 

And I call that magic! It’s not just pedestrians, either. I have seen it work for people on the far side of the road who want to immediately cut across to the other side – making the slow-moving traffic come to a halt – or for drivers signalling turns even when their indicators work perfectly fine. I wish they would reveal their tricks to the traffic police. Somehow, their hands don’t have the same effect as the rest. Do they have to run straight at the wall by platform 9 ¾? Poor them – too busy checking licenses and registrations, while the drivers are generous enough to pay them off for checking their documents.

But not all communication on the road is subtle. Welcome to the most common language on the road – Honk. Only someone with a sharp ear would appreciate honking. If you listen just enough, every honk has its meaning. A light honk means ‘move a little’, a 3-second honk means ‘I don’t have time for a hit-and-run case’, and an uninterrupted one? I just came from one. And if you’re listening for the ‘someone's dying in an ambulance behind me’ honk? Yeah, that one got lost in translation. But really, will honking help turn the red to a green light? No. Does it make the cow say “Sorry, I was on your way”? No. We do it because we love music. 

One of my former colleagues once said that riding a motorbike in traffic is like playing Tetris. I don’t think any other metaphor does it better. There’s just one flaw– it applies to all vehicles, not just bikes. Like Tetris, everyone’s trying to fit into impossible gaps. The real artistry? Watching a truck driver navigate a shortcut so narrow it was probably designed for bicycles—just to save time. Oh, you’re worried that you are late and stuck behind the truck on your tiny vehicle? Well, stop honking and practice patience. It is a virtue after all. 

Of course it's easier said than done, especially for the riders of gearless motorbikes. One hand on the throttle, the other typing an important text in their smartphones. And now add the stress of being stuck behind a truck that won't move a bit. Well, at least they are closing business deals unlike the bystanders wasting lung power yelling at the truck that couldn’t care less.

When the road clears, drivers treat it like a blank notebook. What do you do with an empty notebook? You fill it, of course—exactly what drivers do when they see a stretch of open road. Why leave it blank? 

Yet somehow, there's always that small group of people who act like it's a crime. They clutch their moral compass and say things like, "But that lane is for incoming traffic!" Sorry, my bad—for wanting to get to the movie on time.

The only problem—and I admit, I’m being picky—is that sometimes, just sometimes, the traffic lights don’t work. Who’d want to miss the sunset — even if it’s just a red light pretending to be one? Apart from that, I’m sorted. Just… still waiting on that green light. Not just on the road—everywhere.