Locked & Down but Still & Waiting
It’s one of those streets that would make its presence felt if something went wrong with it. That five-hundred meter partly-cobbled, partly-concrete lane that connects two of the busiest roads in Bandra – Pali Naka and Hill Road. I am sure it has a name but who could be bothered with it in a city like Bombay where we barely know our next door neighbour.
I know it’s an approximately half km stretch because I have timed myself on numerous occasions on that stretch for my interval runs while training. I use training in a loose way because this kind of training is more about the discipline of showing up rather than the ambition of improving performance.
On one side of that road is the boundary wall of a school called St. Joseph’s and one medical shop called Noble Plus. Oddly enough, on the other side of that lane there are shops and vendors with no specific connection or pattern emerging between them. There’s a luxury designer showroom called Kresha Bajaj, a Cottonworld retail showroom, a nursing home, a remnant of a post office and when things were normal, I have unfailingly spotted a sugarcane juice vendor who would ply his trade between the two showrooms. It’s the classic Bombay prototype- different classes inhabiting, co-existing and leaving just about enough room for customers to step in.
I often go to that Noble Plus. It’s the kind of treasure chest that hides more than it shows. I have spotted that odd forgettable celebrity there too. It’s not overstating that it’s a bit like Willy Wonka’s Factory. There’s chocolates and ice creams in abundance and the same goes for all sorts of face washes and delicate soaps and creams that abound on the small shelves. As small as the shop is, they inevitably have stocks of every tablet, capsule, ointment I have ever gone there for.
It’d become our default pharmacy store so much so that at times, if we didn’t get parking on their side of the road, we’d park on the other side and then walk across to the shop. While there are busier roads in Bandra, this road could compete for a top 3 podium finish on any working day. I have seen every kind of vehicle on this road, from a bullock cart to a car and I have seen every kind of car on this road, from a Porsche to a Premier Padmini.
Barring the kids who go to the school and the customers of Noble Plus, everyone else is here to get out of this road the soonest they can. So much so that I can say with a reasonable degree of confidence that the juice vendor gets more customers than Cottonworld and Kresha Bajaj put together.
Anyone driving on this road is hustling to get to some place grander. At one end, is Hill Road, one of the densest roads in the city that leads you to the highway. At the other end is Pali Naka- one of the busiest and noisiest residential & shopping junctions in the country. You cross that and you can go to any of the other famed western suburbs.
I’d never seen this road as quiet as this Monday morning when at 10 am, I drove from my house to that familiar cobbled road to get to Noble Plus.
That the road was so still was a pleasant departure from the normal state of affairs. Except the cars parked on the side, I didn’t spot a single vehicle in motion – a rare sight in any urban neighbourhood, anywhere in the world, let alone Bandra.
It was a peaceful and respectful queue, a unique combination when it comes to queues in India. I collected my meds along with some needless Dairy Milks and readied myself to drive back. Unlike any other day that I’ve driven on this road, I was in no hurry to get back home. As I drove slower than usual, further ahead I saw a large garbage truck parked front and center of the road. The truck had just stopped and a couple of BMC workers alighted to step into the apartment complex nearby. It was 1020 am.
On a normal working day, this event would’ve caused a ruckus. This Monday, it didn’t matter. It was right then that I realised that there was also a white Octavia in between my car and the garbage truck. The Octavia stopped with enough distance between itself and the truck. I did the same. By that time, an auto-rickshaw had lined up behind me. We now had the garbage truck, followed by the Octavia, and then my car and the auto lined up in sequence.
The three of us were patient and still in our respective vehicles. None of us felt the need to honk or tried to veer around the truck. But the three of us behind the garbage truck, had one more choice. It was a small left turn that beckoned us. This was an alley that would have taken me out of this gridlock and I had used it umpteen times before. Here’s a visual reference to make it simple.
That alley to the left of us was no secret for regular drivers on this road. The auto-rickshaw driver and the driver of the Octavia ahead of me with a little manoeuvring had the same choice too. But we waited.
We waited for the garbage workers to come back. I waited for the Octavia to make the first move. A honk maybe? Or a a little turn to the left? Maybe the rickshaw driver would be the first to blink?
The driver of the Octavia didn’t. I turned behind to see if the auto guy was being impatient. He wasn’t.
All three of us waited.
At ease, we waited.
