“Oy bh*nchod!”

Ah yes, the 2 words that burst forth every single time I’m driving in the evening. It might be because of the auto that just cut me off, but it’s mostly because every single direction I look in, there’s a ray of fire frying my eyeballs as efficiently as a bhai blockbuster does my brain. It’s a goddamn high beam attack man. Aage se le liya aur peeche se bhi.


If there’s one song I’d want every single driver in India to hear and really imbibe, it’s Flicka Da Wrist by Chedda Da Connect. Just listen to the chorus and fucking USE THAT SHIT. Flick that high beam switch to low, man, just do it. I swear, I’ll personally hit you up with a t-shirt or something commemorating your transition to being a regular human being.


Apart from the fact that using your high beam all the time makes you a totally wet turd, doesn’t it piss you off that the switch itself isn’t at like, prime position? How are you all so comfortable with it being at that weird angle. I can literally hear ’em say “‘Cos fuck you, that’s why!”


One of the most confounding things about Indian drivers and their loathsome love affair with the high beam is the fact that they just don’t seem to get the hint. I’ll use the dipper on someone coming from the other direction twice, and they’ll just keep on going like I’m putting on a bloody light show. This ain’t Akshardham freakin’ temple mista! I gotta flash them a good 600 times before they reluctantly switch to low beam and, I’m guessing, grumble under their breath the whole time they do it.


I get that you gotta use it in fog and other weird weather conditions, but these fools will be brandishing their beams on a midsummer night and that, my amigos, is no dream. I’m a relatively chill person, but put me on a highway facing an Innova brandishing its bulbs and I’ll turn into this ashleel tota.

I’m afraid if I keep on writing this will just collapse into an endless stream-of-consciousness string of curses, so I leave you with the swan song of every driver ever – Fuck you assholes!