driving a car in rush hour traffic can be turned into a kind of meditation.
i see the three-wheeler in the front ten feet away and also the bikes on either side--so close that their crash-guards are just inches away from the two sides of my car. and on the rear-view mirror, there is a bus breathing down my neck...
the three-wheeler, the bikes and the bus define the boundaries of the space in which i exist. i become the car that moves in this space that flows in the traffic, without touching anyone, delicately conscious and alert. i am in no hurry. the bus behind is impatient. the bikes on either side are also impatient and are constantly on the lookout for gaps to forge ahead. the three-wheeler in the front moves jerkily out of its impatience.
i see the impatience of everyone. i feel surrounded by the benign urge of throbbing life.