Impotent rage

I was stuck in traffic for around two hours this afternoon. Why? Cause some politician’s cavalcade had to go someplace important (gauging by the urgent sirens on the fleet). After waiting for over a half hour, we were waved away from our turn. We went straight, turned, and then sat in traffic for another forty minutes or so. We inched towards another detour finally, and saw cars in the opposite traffic backed up for about a mile, and now piling up into the flyover. We sped up the empty street, only to realize that it was only a U-turn, and now we were one of the piled up cars. Seething in my car, mounting rage under the blazing sun, late for a meeting, I wanted to scream. Jump out of the car and do something dramatic, to mark my presence and worth as a person, if not a VIP.  Had this been a movie, all of us held hostage to political inconsideration would have walked out en masse, deserting our cars (and our unilateral monetary pursuits), and stormed the parliament for answers. For the outsized public debt, but such deficient infrastructure. For lives eked out on sidewalks. For stifling pollution, and open dumps. For the sham state education. …

Instead like everyone else, once released from the gridlock, I went about my business, and came home.

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