Something happens to Chennai at around 6 in the evening. As though someone rang a giant school bell over the city, students, workers, teachers, parents and kids dash out onto the street, and simultaneously rush home. And like most people, I ended up in the passenger seat of a car, peering out at the endless pair of glowing red backlights in front of us.
Just as I was about to rant about the traffic, a faint wail caught my ear. I strained for a moment, until it became louder. An ambulance siren. My friend glanced at the rear view mirror and chuckled, perhaps more out of sympathy than apparent sadism. “That guy is screwed,” he remarked.
Just as I was about to rant about the traffic, a faint wail caught my ear. I strained for a moment, until it became louder. An ambulance siren. My friend glanced at the rear view mirror and chuckled, perhaps more out of sympathy than apparent sadism. “That guy is screwed,” he remarked.
