Driving to Despair!

The Wife, amongst her many sterling qualities, is a total expert on the roads of Hyderabad; one who knows the ‘gali gali nooka nooka’ of the city. So, when in Hyderabad, I am content to drive under her directions. When she says ‘turn right’, that is precisely what I do. This arrangement, largely works fine. Largely, because while sagacious, well read, intelligent and beautiful, The Wife does have one flaw. She tends to, like the many landlubbers, get confused between port (left) and starboard (right).

Picture this oft repeated scene – about 300m short of the intended turn she says ‘right’.  I edge right in preparation of the turn. Perhaps under the impression that I didn’t hear her, she repeats in a slightly more insistent tone – ‘right’. Though surprised, I try to edge further right. A few seconds later I hear a far more exasperated ‘right’. This baffles me no end, but I manfully acknowledge the command and move another two and a half inches right. The stridency of her ‘right’ approximates panic as we approach the turn – ‘right, right, I said RAAIGHTT’.  If you think that would faze me no end, you are correct. And then, three metres short of the turn her ‘right’ mysteriously turns to ‘left, left LEEFTT”.  Now those of you acquainted with Hyderabad traffic will agree that to draw left at that stage, would need a rather bold manoeuvre, dextrous driving of the highest order and complete disregard for road safety. Fortunately, the benign cops of Hyderabad couldn’t care less and after navigating through the gridlock caused by, well us, we ultimately head ‘left’.
 
Hyderabad has beautiful roads in general (with a well planned 158 km ORR) but more so towards the Gachibowli, Financial District, Narsingi side – complete with myriad clover leaf roundabouts, service roads, radials, etc. However, while the roads are like Hema Malini’s cheeks, they have very poor road furniture. Now don’t look askance, its civil engineer speak for, amongst other things, road signage. Example – recently, we were on an anticipated 12 km drive. The Wife guided me till the ORR and having ordered me to “keep going straight”, dove into the enchanting world of Whatsapp.

Straight I therefore, went. After a fair distance, and having driven more than the total anticipated 12km, my gut told me that ‘something’ was wrong. I made a suggestion to The Wife that ‘something was wrong’. The Wife still immersed in Whatsapp, said keep going straight and so keep going is what I did. The magnificent buildings that dot that side of Hyderabad starting fading away yielding way to dry shrubs, boulders and nothingness. That is when I spied a sign that said Vikarabad. Now Vikarabad my keen sense of geography told me was about 70km from our intended destination, and while I am sure it offers many attractions and has splendid law-abiding citizens, it was not our intended destination. Accordingly, I directed a meek enquiry towards The Wife. The Wife detached herself reluctantly from Whatsapp, looked around, and, well, shrieked.
 
She – ‘Where the hell are you going?’
 
I, in an affronted tone – ‘Straight’.
 
Strangely, she started frothing a bit. After some heated ‘’tu tu main main we decided to consult Google. The Google lady (Karen Jacobsen I’m told, but I may be wrong) too goggled and after a long period of ‘redirecting’, advised us in an irritatingly detached and calm voice, to ‘continue straight and take a U turn after 20km’. As all ye married men would expect, we did that in complete and morose silence. Having gone 20km up and then 25 km down, Google correctly took us off the highway and we ended up at a circle with five exits. Now Google is a stupendous invention, but ever noticed how its gyro seems to wander around in circles when at er… a circle? Google took us round a circle three times till, a kind hearted policeman seeing our bewildered expressions, stopped us and asked us something in Telugu. Now while I understand not a word of Telugu, I am a keen reader of body language and facial expressions. After all, communication as the life coaches say,  is 70% non verbal. I could hence loosely translate his words which were – “Abe ghanchakkar log, jaana kahan hain?” (Oye you idiots, where do you want to go?).  

To cut a long story short, we reached our destination 70 min and 48 kms later than anticipated.

Damn those beautiful roads, damn ORR, damn Hyderabad.