Among all the things that drive me batty about my daily mode of conveyance, there’s nothing more terrible than the vehicles’ speed.

Lack thereof, that is.

How many times have I gritted my teeth in the backseat as I watch autorickshaws and other slower vehicles race past my rickety taxi, cruising along at 40 kmph on the fast lane! The driver oblivious of furious motorists honking behind him or the headlights blazing in his rear view mirror.

Once, only once, the vehicle I was in was overtaken by a cyclist, but that I put down to the bad condition of the roads than the driver’s innate lack of speed.

Combined with their slow pace, the drivers also excel in sticking to slow-moving lanes in high-traffic conditions. Thus, I find myself watching the other lanes zip by while I am stuck behind a smoke-belching behemoth. I will frantically look behind, look at the next lane, hoping the driver will take his cue and shift lanes but often it does not work as well as direct action. And by the time the driver finds space to move to the next lane, the earlier lane would have picked up speed and once again I will find myself stuck in a static line.