Arc-lights on Cars

A pair of arc-lights as sharp and intense as if coming from an
arc-welding, struck my two poor eyeballs and I felt totally blinded.
The night was falling, it was almost dark, and the car from which those
lights were coming bore over and whoosh-past me, disappearing into the
rear. My car was jittery, I felt, threatening to stop, and a wave of
fear went past my whole being. If this car stops where would I be in
this swarm of madly rushing, home-going evening traffic, I thought. The
night was getting darker faster and faster, and I began to shake like a
bamboo tree, my grip over my steering ever so more tightening.
I looked into my rear-view mirror. A very sharp singular arc-light was
getting bigger and bigger behind me, I observed, and in no time an
inter-galactic figure, all dressed up in steels and leather, cropped up
from behind and overtook me, bent over his motor-bike as if he wanted
to eat it.
Over-exhausted from the day-long slog, from life's blows and kicks, I
had badly needed a repose. As I thought of speeding a bit, suddenly, I
noticed to my total horror, an articulated juggernaut from behind me
was engaged in its tactics to zigzag pass me, and before I could tell,
it seemed to be succeeding, and its fat driver grimaced as he overtook
me, missing me by an inch. He headed forth straight, and instantly got
lost in the melly of traffic. My foot was still half on the brake. All
the cars around me were moving faster than me, I suspected, none of
them drivers bothering a second lookat me.
As I drove on thus thinking, a pedestrian crossing seemed to be ahead
falling into my path. I slowed down then braked. A young man with a
mobile over his head was on it, completely unaware of the waiting
traffic, immersed in a conversation with someone very dear - so it
looked from the smirk on his face. His pace was unforgivable, slower
than a snail's. I got seized with an intense desire to hoot, but
somehow I could not. Instead, a deep painful sigh escaped my aching
lungs, my eyelids closed.
As the traffic moved again, I opened my eyes and made up my mind to be
braver. You got to be tough, brave in this new world, new century, if
you were to live in it. Thus concluding, I began to move with a bit of
speed.
But, no, not again. Out from the limbo of the distance, four very
white arc-lights, two of them almost dragging over the ground, hit my
eyes like four blinding rays of a naked white sun. It was a youngish
gent, I saw, and as he approached, notes of drum-like music as loud as
if from a disco poured out from his racing car. He halted at the red
light, giving me a casual look, grinning. He seemed impatient, revving
up his engine, and even before the red light turned pale, he drifted
forward and flew off like a whirlwind, leaving behind a thunder in the
air.
Rubbing my ear, I slowly, warily, resumed the journey, and I began to
think. Every time I had looked at any of these drivers, they would
grin, invariably so, I was sure. What was the matter? Was it my white
beard or was it my master-size black-and-blue cap, I was wearing, I
could not tell? I was slightly slower, slower than any of them, I do
admit, but then so what? I had been driving long - for the past fifty
years, to be exact - and I was gentle, well composed and moderate as I
had always been, having been taught that way in those good old days of
mine. High speed, and also a high arc-light, were forbidden then. An
arc-light blinded the oncoming driver, impaired his vision, rendered
him accident-prone so was I taught.
What was then the matter in this new advanced age? I pondered as I
drove on. As I was driving, unexpectedly, out from the dark, a totally
lightless car suddenly materialized. It had no lights on, not even one.
Completely mingled with the dark, looking like part of the dark itself,
it gave me a sudden jolt, sent all my nerves into confusion. Recovering
my wit, I quickly steered myself on one side giving the bloke a way. He
was moving at a higher speed - cleary unjustifiable under such a
circumstance. As he passed on, I gave him a gentle hoot trying to warn
him about his lights, bu no sign of any response seemed evident, there
was no reaction. He might be drunk, I conjectured , or, maybe his whole
lighting system has gone to the devil, over which he has no control.
Thus speculating, I strangely found myself giving the whole thing a
second thought, and as I examined all of its aspects, I decided not to
concern myself with it anymore. Slowly, I put my foot over the pedal
and began to move.
As I was driving on thus, all of a sudden I heard a sound from my
rear: 'woo...woo...woo...' a blue light flickering over the roof of a
dashing car. It had emerged from nowhere like a bombshell and it
hurried forth wrong-sidedly, finally disappearing into the lengths of
the road.
Wishing them cops a good-luck, admiring their speed, I went on
driving. But not a minute had passed then I found myself trapped in a
traffic jam. I huddled forth, anyway, and as I got to the front, I saw
more cops stepping down from their cars, and there rested on the road
an ambulance, its back doors open, taking in stretchers bearing bodies.
As I passed them, I noticed two cars overturned, their arc-lights still
on, the beams of them going up into the sky creating an eerie look in
the dark. Quickly, averting my eyes from it, I made an effort to get
out from that place fast.
The night was getting denser, the congestion on the road receding, and
in a few minutes there appeared a small lane passing into the interior.
I drove forward and turned into it. As I went on driving further, in a
short while the gate leading to my garden, came into sight, and I felt
glad. The pressures, the tensions on my mind, on my nerves suddenly
evaporated. I was normal once again.