“God damn it!” He muttered and peered through the windshield of his new Esteem. The wipers were whooshing away the water right to left, the windshield was wiped clean despite the torrential rain, dark shadows jumped in front of his car, people trying to cross, he braked, peered again through the glass, whoosh ,whoosh the rain pelted down the windshield, thunder rolled but the AC hummed silently in the interior of his car.

The CD player was deliberately kept off. He needed to concentrate, pedestrians swarmed the roads like locusts, some were even known to splatter on the windshields of speeding cars, blood on the road, traffic jams, fumes of midnight stranded trucks fogging up the air with chemicals and him twiddling his thumbs on his steering wheel wondering who the next SOB would be to die a dog’s death.

If there was hell he knew Hosur Road was a teaser of what life down and under would be like and there would be no respite. He was already living it commuting day in day out trying to reach the Electronic City with his car and sanity intact.

He had to attend a late night conference call. The bridge was facing some server issues and he had drive all the way from Parade Grounds. It was eleven in the night, the same time the previous night he had seen the whitish entrails of a brain lying on the road.

Orphaned brain lying on the road and cars gave it eerie respect by slowly driving past it, like little children the drivers had gawked at the forgotten human gore, he was amongst them enthralled by the macabre of the road sideshow and drove back home with the subdued by the memory of how vulnerable humans really are.

Now was not the time to remember it, with all the rain and lack of visibility he needed to keep his wits about him. Fuck the brain, the oozing storehouse of thoughts and deeds lying naked on the filthy road, fuck! He wanted the thought plucked out of his freaking brain— FUCKKKKK…

His foot slammed on the brakes, his car came to a screeching halt and threw his body forward and within a split second was yanked back by an unforgiving seat belt.

“What in the name of hell?” He wheezed and clutched his pounding heart.

He peered out of his glass, whoosh, whoosh went the wipers, the rain slammed against the glass, he peered closer. What the fuck was it? A body? Someone had come before his car? There was nothing there.

He sat back and started the car. Cars behind him honked, the moment was gone, he put his foot on the clutch, and gently released it as he pressed down the accelerator, the car was on first gear- How he loved his car. A smile broadened across his dark congenial face. She was brand new, pearl grey and glided on the road. Slowly he let her go- the lioness on a short leash; she was a beauty----“what the fuck! ”he barked.

A hand slammed against the windshield, ghostly white with pink bangles twinkling in the pouring rain. A drenched face peered back at his shocked face and gave a pleading smile. She was pretty in a North Indian way, sharp features, big black eyes, quivering lips and rope like hair caressing her young breasts. She reminded him of a drenched lily; it was rare to catch glimpses of such gleaming beauties.

Transfixed he rolled down his window. He had forgotten his anger. He was going to play knight to her damsel in distress.

‘How may I help you?’ he kept his eyes trained on her face. This was not the time to check her out like a Lothario and spook her.

“My car broke down a few miles away. Nobody’s willing to give me a lift. Could you drop me near Electronic City?” She pleaded and smiled at him while he stared back at the tiny river streaming down her magnificent aquiline nose.

He opened his mouth but the words remained unspoken as she climbed into the car and made a puddle on his new leather passenger seat.

There was going to be a stain. She gave him a radiant smile. He smiled back awkward and started the ignition.

The car purred to life and silently took to the road. He cleared his throat; she smoothed her wet wrinkled kurta. The glass bangles twittered between them hinting for the need of empty words to break the ice.

“So, do you work in a call center?” he asked keeping his eye on the slow truck chugging on the road. 'Bure nazaarwala tera muh kala' the sign read under the Haryana license plate.

‘Figures’ he smiled internally and waited an answer.

She murmured “Yes, Sir.”

“Sir?” He was amused “Don’t call me sir. I’m barely ten years older than you.”

Her lips twitched but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Her trepidation was understandable, she was taking a lift in the middle of the night and he looked like a hulky dark gorilla out to pillage nubile virgins.

He was enjoying himself all of a sudden. He was the cat and she the mouse but he sought to put her at ease. She was, after all, barely out of college.

“Doesn’t a van come to pick you up?” he asked again.

“It used to but now days I commute alone.” She replied while watching the passing world through little beads of water glistening on the car window.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye and wondered if there was any need to be nice. He could just as well remain quiet and drop her wherever she wanted.

“My sister worked in a Wipro Call Center in Delhi.” He told her and wondered why he felt the need to talk.

“My boyfriend works in Wipro.” She replied.

“He doesn’t mind you gallivanting in the middle of the night.”

A frown marred her creamy forehead. He smiled to take the sting out of the words and put a Yanni C.D in his player.

Generic pseudo meditative music began to play in the background as he honked at the traffic. The truck before him had come to a standstill and farted out some noxious fumes.

“Bloody traffic” he muttered. “I don’t understand how we are expected to put up with these nightmarish conditions on the road and yet be productive.”

She nodded and looked animated for once. “I agree. It’s getting very difficult to commute. It’s the buses and trucks that are choking the roads.”

“True” he agreed and slowly accelerated as the traffic jam before him began to clear.

“I mean, its getting difficult for me to get a lift on this road.” Her beautiful eyes flashed as she went on to protest.

“Everyone is in such a hurry to get past that they aren’t concerned about each other or the people crossing or waiting on the road.”

He nodded his head and tried to interrupt her- “But it isn’t the fault of those driving-…”

“Of Course it’s their fault.” She scolded him “There is no humanity left on this road.”

The cymbals were reaching a climax on his CD player and he visualized Yanni waving his long Greek hair with the Taj behind him. The rain began to batter his car as if to provide the right ambience to the music and the thunder crackled loudly and lightened up the young girl’s passionate face in a luminous glow.

Her lips looked pink and an inner glow gave her a spooky surreal presence. He felt his hair prickle, goose bumps rose all over his body.

It was a fantastic moment, quite extraordinary as if out of a B-grade Hindi flick. She remained oblivious to the dramatic moments that had transpired and continued talking.

“I had been standing out in the rain since an hour and a half. But did any one have the decency to stop? No! They just carried on.”

He suppressed a grin as she reminded him of Elizabeth Taylor in the role of Katherine in Taming of the Shrew. She was an impassioned beauty and this young girl would grow to be a beautiful spite fire like that erstwhile heroine.

Though she was dripping all over his newly upholstered seat he felt himself lose himself in her presence. He felt like a fly stuck in her silken web.

“I swear if I didn’t have to make these rounds….” Her bangles now seemed to clash instead of twitter.

“Rounds?” he frowned as he swerved and avoided a pedestrian.

“I thought you worked in a call center.”

“Of course I work in a call center. It’s a figure of speech.” She glared at him.

‘No it isn’t.’ He thought and looked at her. Her skin was flushed to a rosy pink as if she had just had a rough tumble in bed. He scolded himself for that nasty thought and reminded himself that she was barely at a legal age to drink forget about fucking.

He felt uncomfortable as desire and a weird feeling burned in his gut. The space between them, all of a sudden seemed to narrow.

He shifted his gear and fell silent as she went on talking in a crisp North Indian accent.

“Bangaloreans are an evil lot. They run over people, they break traffic rules and fight like animals on the road. How many people have to die before they come to their senses?”

Aria began to play in the background but his nerves were now on the edge. She sounded like a shrew. He wanted to fuck her, beat her, punch her, god; he wanted to shut that jabbering mouth for ever. What did that bitch think? That she could bully him?

His hands shook on the steering wheel. What the hell? What was he thinking? He felt a surge of anger, desire and panic mix in a heady rush of adrenaline. He saw himself grabbing a knife and jabbing her again and again with it. Blood spurting all over his seat as she’d squeal her last breathe out.

He passed a sign that said Electronic City. His massive shoulders heaved as he took shallow breaths. He wanted to fucking kill the bitch.

She went on talking as if nothing had gone wrong. “You remember the brains lying on the road?”

He glared at her. If she blabbered any more he’d fucking kill the cunt.

“Did anyone remove them? They just drove around. Impotent bastards! You all are the same” she screeched.

“We are all the same? What the fuck do you mean?” He bellowed.

“You fucking men are all the same. You think everything is for your taking. The road, the world, the women, its all about pillaging, raping, murdering.” She snarled and hit him with her little fists.

He brought his car to an abrupt halt on the middle of the road and grabbed her throat.

“I will kill you! You fucking whore! Cunt, bitch” he throttled her and heard her gaggle and choke.

“Die bitch! Die!” he screamed as her eyes bulged.

She tried to remove his death gripe with her fluttering hands. Desire and exhilaration rose in his belly. His penis was hard. It was all so real and so much fun. He had never felt like this before.

Her tongue rolled out, eyes swooned, bangles broke, hair swayed as he took her life and Aria played in the background.

The wipers swooshed as he killed her. She drew her last breath and lay limp in his grasp. She was dead.

He moved away from her. WHAT HAD HE DONE? He stared at his hands in horror and then at her.

“WAKE UP! FOR GOD’S SAKE!” he shook her body. “I didn’t mean to kill you” he wept.

Resting his head against the steering wheel he cried in despair. Loud wails of hopelessness shook his six foot body. He had killed an innocent person for no reason at all.

A persistent knock on his car became a bang and demanded his attention. He raised his head and saw a drenched cop staring at him through his window.

He rolled down his window and muttered “Please help me. I’ve kil….”

“Sar! move yer car. You are causing a jam.” The cop shouted at him.

“My passenger needs help” he shouted. He was hanging on by the last shred of sanity. How did it come to this?

The cop hunkered down and surveyed the car and looked at him, perplexed.

“What passenger?”

He turned and stared at the empty passenger seat .

“Huh?” he gaped

“Move your car, Sar!” the cop banged his car bonnet and moved on

He ran a hand over the passenger seat. It was dry.

What the Fuck Had Just Happened? Where the fuck was she? Who the fuck was she?