It was official all these days; it was statistical upto now; it was written about by foreign returned people; but now it's personal. The wretched Indian habit of spitting on the road has finally ripped apart my sad air of helplessness which was characterised by the statement, "Why are some of my fellow citizens like this?"
It's true, for any issue to affect your conscience, you need to be a victim or in my case a part-victim.
The scene: normal traffic signal at Priyadarshini signal, Chembur. Waiting for the mandatory 4-5 minute signal to turn green; when all of a sudden I find something like a red pepper flake that is generally consumed with pizza on the Mumbai Mirror that I am reading. This was simultaneously accompanied by THAT FAMILIAR SOUND; of someone spitting. Rage overtook me and as I looked out of my auto, I saw an aged man in some high end air conditioned car hastily rolling up his window.
"Bastard!!", I said, which would have appeared to him as being mouthed. A look of disgust and a shrug of my shoulders conveyed what I wanted to him. And for a change from my usual shy behaviour, I held his gaze for a full minute and wagged my finger like a primary school teacher admonishing her wards.
"Sorry", said the bastard (I hope) which appeared like being mouthed.
Such defilers should be punished by making them perform fellatio on an Ingram with the climax being that the trigger is pulled.
And holy-fuck, I bet this aged bastard would be a 'respected' individual in his society; giving fundas to the youth on how they should behave; complaining about how the BMC has fucked Bombay etc. "Arre, behenchod!! You are the problem."
Thank You God for saving my white shirt!! Thank You Mumbai Mirror for handling THAT flake.