Ohhhhhhhhhhhmyyyyyyyyyyyyygoddddddddddd I am in a video game!

Over Christmas my nephews introduced me to Temple Run. (thanks, guys!)

Project yourself a blonde, wripped Rambo, hurtling along crumbling wall-tops high above a tapestry of jungle tangle. Leap bulging tree roots, whip around dead-end corners, launch over wide chasms, all the while evading corner-of-your-eye incoming that are the stuff of William Shatner's lofty nightmares.

Such is the traffic of Delhi.

Motor bikes and 3-wheeled taxis squeeze between our behemoth bus and delivery vans, SUVs,Squeeze other buses. I'm thinking no catalytic converters here, the smog is palpable. I swear those little guys morph to gell-state to get thru impossible slivers of space - you can't call them gaps - then rematerialize as scratch-and-dent specials on the front side of the traffic jam and roll on.

Reaching Connaught, shift to warp speed, as if to make up for lost time... fast forward!

trafiicMixDelhi traffic. Laughter is the only sane response. Choose to experience the adrenaline rush as exileration. Woah.

Then there's walking. Hhmmm, this feels familiar, like the bike lanes of Philadelphia.

Walking. Just like those falsely acclaimed bicycle lanes, these walkways go along smoothly enough, sometimes even nicely dressed with (dusty) trees and benches. But wait, there's a vehicle parked on the sidewalk, and a little further along, a series of street vendor stalls block the way completely, and then just around a bend the path serrupticously disappears. Just like that. Leaving you stranded to either float above to the next length of walk, or plunge into the fray of the raging torrent of motor vehicle traffic. Transport used to be mostly bicycles, bicycle taxis, and bicycle carts, they say. Now it's a screeching, belching, writhing mass of horn blowing chaos.