Today, within a span of an hour I experienced two extremes of human behavior; one shattered my belief in humanity while the other redeemed it.

The potholed service lane from my home to work place is choc a bloc full of vehicles, especially motorcycles trying to gain that extra minute by trying to bypass a red light. Besides this are rickshaws/e-rickshaws at the metro station awaiting passengers and then there are randomly parked cars. People are surprised that, at this stage of my career, I do not own a prestige car and commute in a humble Santro Zing. Easy maneuverability, less parking space, cheaper spare parts are some of its plus points. As long as the car moves, I do not even get down to look at the damage caused by mild accidents or quarrel over the new addition to my battle-scarred sturdy little vehicle. As I was driving in the thickening evening traffic a pedestrian edged his way on to the road and my left side-mirror hit his arm. He rushed to my side of the car and ordered me out to settle scores. Indeed! Thankfully my window panes were up and the car locked from inside. I gave him a glare and drove on as fast as I could on the choked road. He banged hard on the back of my car in frustration. It was as if he had punched my chest. My heart began to pound. As luck would have it there was a jam a few yards ahead. Seeing my car stop, he ran to catch up with me and began thumping my side window pane, trying to break it by the sheer force of his fury. Unable to do so, he caught hold of my side-mirror and tried unsuccessfully to twist and break it. No one came to help me. The road cleared a bit and I moved ahead while he was left stranded in the middle of the road surrounded by honking motorcycles that thwarted his evil intentions. Trembling with fear I entered the first by-lane I could and made good my escape. Such an exaggerated response to such a negligible injury was unbelievable! That he was a tall, well groomed, middle aged, middle class man and not some fourth class fellow who did not know better or young blood that boils easily, made matters still worse. How could he spew so much venom on a lady, who had hurt him but mildly, that too unintentionally when, he was walking on the road instead of the pavement. It was road rage in its rawest form.

The palpitation took a long time to stop. Still shaken I entered the hospital for my evening OPD. Quickly I gulped down the glass of water that the GDA (general duty attendant – a fancy name for ayahs in corporate set ups) had brought. Used to seeing a flower in my hair she asked me why I was not wearing one today.
‘I forgot.’
Today she had a white carnation in her hair, filched from the bouquet on the front desk. Casually, as if it was the most natural thing to do she took if off and said,
‘Yeh lagalo Madamji’, as if I would use the flower pulled out of her oil slicked, perhaps lice infested hair. To my surprise, I did pin it on my hair that very instant subconsciously seeing the intention not the act, like Lord Rama who who, ate the berries Shabri tasted, so that she could feed him only the sweet ones.