I counted more than 40 manholes between the Andheri signal and my office. It did not suprise me one bit that they were all uneven and not at the same level as the already messed up concrete tar patches, an excuse for a road.
Peering into the passing taxi, I noticed a woman holding one of those lace fans, realised its summer.
And then…. thud… bump… screech…. the auto went into one of those giant pot holes and went up one of those rather high man hole lids, almost bumping into the taxi.
Sweating (thanks to the heat and the accident that almost happened), I do not know what to crib about – the unbearable summer or the horrible roads or the new location my office has shifted to.
Instead, I just fear the rainy June months. More than 40 manholes. This should be fun.