The distance from Delhi to Jaipur is 242 km, and to cover this distance by road, you need to brave a six-hour journey via the Jaipur Delhi Expressway, also known as NH 48. I have taken that road trip many times, and almost as many times, I have told myself to stop playing Russian Roulette and not to stretch my luck any further.
This particular Expressway seems to attract drivers who have some crazy death wish. It becomes especially hazardous during nighttime, when a deadly concoction of dust, pollution, and smog compromises road visibility. For the scientifically inclined, it doubles as a physics lab, where light scattering, Brownian motion, and nonlinearity and chaos are demonstrated in real time.
As you leave the airport in the cab, everything will feel like it’s moving in slow motion. Coming from a fast-paced life in America, I always hear the merits of slowing down.
Is this it? Have I arrived and attained Nirvana? Is this a dream? Is this some mysticism I have been feeling?
No, you aren’t dreaming, and you haven’t attained nirvana, either! Your car is stuck in traffic. There is a sea of cars and vehicles eagerly waiting to get out of this airport area and hit the highway- but they can’t. The cars are so close that you may even shake hands with passengers in other cars, exchange snacks, or discuss the weather or sports.
The cab finally hits the expressway, and the journey begins. Now, the stage is set for the video game, which, if successful, will last for six hours. Unlike in the video games, there are no lifelines on this track. You have already put that life on the line once you committed yourself to the NH 48 racetrack.
The cab driver opens the car door while cruising at 100 km/h, every 20 minutes, or lowers the window to spit out the red-colored saliva, which is frequently produced by a tobacco mixture rolling between his gums and teeth.
There, you have your Eureka moment, when you realize the source and reasoning of the red paint sprayed in a very aerodynamic artistic fashion around this car. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss, and this was that moment.
This unsolicited realization may make you squirm in your seat and also force you to look around in the dark interiors of the car. How far can those nano particulates travel, you wonder. The more you look, the more patterns reveal themselves, and some are too close for your comfort. You are forced to stop your discovery pursuits.
You find the frequent spitting out of the window unhygienic and decide to object, only to find the cab driver making an effort to explain himself while keeping the tobacco in his mouth.
It is a delicate art, mastered by the most in the northern belt of India. The driver would push his lower lip forward, push his upper lip against his teeth to capture the airflow, and control the already limited tongue movement.
This extraordinary effort results in some garbled sound, “Sir, this keeps me awake. I haven’t slept for two days, and if I do not chew on it, I may fall asleep, and you may not want this either.”
You feel a pang of sympathy for the driver. “Would you like to take a break or maybe catch a nap? Let me buy you some tea or coffee. I am in no hurry.”
“Don’t worry, sir. We are used to it. This tobacco-gutka will keep me fresh.”
You have no option but to agree. There are no additional lifelines, and many more landmines are waiting ahead. This is a roller coaster ride; the track is a mystery, and no one knows precisely who operates the controls.
Finally, the car merges onto the highway. Most of it is one-way, two or three lanes each side, but some stretches are two-way. Almost every vehicle with working headlights has them on high beams. You are so blinded by them that you can’t tell a car from a tractor, a bus, or a truck.
Your driver swings out to pass a bus. Fast-moving headlights bear down. No one slows down. The collision seems likely. You grip the seat so tightly your nails dig into the fabric. The moment of truth arrives, and you aren’t sure if this was a near miss or a near hit. At the last instant, he swerves back. Relief floods you. The driver remains unflinched and, with unchanged expressions, cranes his head out of the window to spit again.
You see more adventures on the road when headlights vanish, bikes swerve without warning, and tractors crawl under haystacks twice their width.
You will have these near-death experiences on repeat mode. At one point, you decide to leave it to the driver, other drivers, your luck, your karma, and any invisible power you may believe in. You are unflinched now, just as your driver had been all along. You are finding your center, your Zen.
You begin to realize that you do not control your life and the circumstances around you. You surrender. You recognize what surrender feels like for the first time. You are feeling free. You notice the full round moon glowing in the sky. You feel the coolness of the car’s air conditioning. You are becoming more aware. Zen is dawning. It is happening!
By the time you finally manage to get out of the cab on your own feet, you are transformed, and your perspectives about life have changed.
You feel grateful, and compassion is flowing. You thank your stars, your luck, your driver, other drivers, and of course- that red tobacco gutka.
You are looking forward to your return trip next week on NH48.
