As I stood by the bridge across the Karapakkam backwaters, I heard blaring horns and felt blinding headlights. The evening traffic - people rushing to get to their homes, to their families. Out of the millions taking the Old Mahabalipuram Road home, there were thousands living in Adyar. Out of the thousands living in Adyar, there were hundreds who had families waiting for them. Out of the hundreds who had their families waiting for them, there was only one person who had a daughter who was bedridden with sickness with only months to live.
He had lost track of time while he was working. He needed the overtime for her medical expenses, but he needed to be with her to take care of her. His wife had passed away giving birth to this very little girl. That night still haunted him, but what terrified him was the thought that he was going to lose his daughter as well. As he rushed to the lobby so that he could swipe his card and exit out the front door, he realized that he had forgotten his phone in his cubicle. He glanced at his watch and decided against going back for it and went ahead, swiped his card and walked out. He shuffled the papers in his hands and put them in his bag. He fished for the key in his pockets for quite a while until he succeeded. His breath caught as he saw her picture in the key chain. He remembered how her eyes would light up as he walked through that door. He steadied himself, put the key into the ignition and mounted his bike - he needed to fill his tank again - but he was yet to receive his salary. Three more days to payday - he would take the bus for the next three days.
As he rode the bike onto the highway, all he could think of was his daughter. He had to leave her at home by herself every morning, asking the neighbour to make sure she took her lunch and her pills. He wished there were some way he could stay with her for the few months that she was going to live. A tear escaped the corner of his eye as he weaved his way through the evening traffic.
On the other side of town, a dark figure was stumbling down an alley. Had someone seen his face some other day, they would have said that he had a handsome face. Not today. Today his eyes were blazing red, his pain evident on his brow, his anger crystal clear in every move he made. He wandered aimlessly for a while until he realized he was right next to his car. He threw the bottle of vodka on the ground and smiled as it shattered into a million pieces. She had broken his heart into just as many pieces. Cursing himself for thinking about her again, he got into the driver's seat and started up the SUV. He knew not where he was going, he knew not why. All he wanted was to escape his own mind.
His eyes clouded, he could barely see which road he had taken. He could almost remember his address, couldn't he? No he couldn't. He drove on and on, with nowhere to go. Until he was startled by a shout and the blaring of horns around him. He slammed the brakes and stumbled out of his car to see a man lying in a pool of blood a few feet away from his car, his bike fallen not far. Yanked into reality, he realized what he had done. He had driven through a red traffic signal. People were screaming at him and shouting for the ambulance. The man was choking on his own blood but was reaching for something. Looking away from the horrifying sight in front of him - at what he had done, he noticed something glimmering at his feet. It was what the man was reaching for. It was a piece of a broken key chain with a picture of a little girl. The picture of the man's daughter. He looked at the man with guilt burning him alive only to see his eyes close and his twitching arm fall limp by his side.
To each one of us, something or the other may happen that kills us a little inside. But our life is not our own. It collides and entwines with so many other lives that one rash action can do some irreparable damage to us or to someone else. If I were to utter a word of prayer for every vehicle that speeds along the OMR, I would be praying all day.
Drive, but drive safe. Keep your head no matter how hard it gets, because there are people who have it worse. For them, drive safe. For the ones who care about you, drive safe.
