Ramesh was in a hurry to reach the office that morning and thought he had left early enough. But the city traffic seemed determined to freeze time itself.
The moment he rode his bike onto the main road, he saw a long line of vehicles stretching ahead. His heart sank. It looked as if the entire city had chosen the same route for a picnic. Horns were blaring, people were shouting, and one driver kept honking as if the world were about to end.
The sun was slowly getting harsher. Inside his helmet, Ramesh felt like vegetables cooking in a pressure cooker. He considered removing it but changed his mind after noticing a traffic policeman nearby.
The car in front of him stopped abruptly. Ramesh pressed his horn lightly. In response, someone behind him blasted their horn so loudly it sounded like a wedding band had begun playing.
A man standing nearby muttered, “Brother, today the traffic is in God’s hands.”
Ramesh replied, “Maybe even God is stuck in this jam.”
After five minutes, the vehicles ahead moved a little. Ramesh felt hopeful. But suddenly, a scooter squeezed in between and said, “Give me some space, brother. It’s urgent.”
Ramesh thought to himself, “Everyone’s work is urgent. Is going to the office not important for me?”
After half an hour, his temper was truly boiling over. It felt as if tea was simmering inside his head. Starting and stopping his bike repeatedly, he muttered, “In traffic, a man doesn’t just get late—he grows old.”
Finally, the traffic cleared. Ramesh breathed a sigh of relief and sped ahead like the wind. On the way, he promised himself that next time he would leave five minutes earlier.
After reaching the office, he drank some water and smiled, saying, “Today, traffic really tested my patience.”
In the evening, as he saw another traffic jam on his way back home, he sighed softly and said, “Looks like my temper is about to boil over again.”
RAJEEV VERMA 