35053668-Empire-of-the-Soul-Paul-William-Roberts

‘WE SHOULD SHARE OUR SEX ENERGIES’
‘Too much far.’
‘We’ll hitch a lift.’
I don’t think he understood the expression.
Just then I noticed the most terrifying vehicle of all the terrifying
vehicles on Indian roads: a public carrier. Camouflaged in a riot of
painted gods and floral patterns, its cabin festooned with charms,
garlands, and shimmering tinsel ropes, and crammed with wildeyed
men in torn undershirts and tea-towel bandannas, chrome
everywhere, more beedie-smoking lunatics clinging to its roof, or
on the hundred tons of boulders haphazardly stacked behind, this
was a hooting, lurching catastrophe on twelve wheels – and it was
travelling a hundred miles an hour straight at us. Since our car now
blocked the road, this confrontation would be interesting. Public
carrier drivers operate in a hypnotic trance, programmed to do one
thing and one thing only: drive. Their reactions are nonexistent which
is why so many public carriers litter the ditches of Indian highways
after having lost arguments with trees or each other. This particular
stretch of road – like most across India – was basically one lane, with
room for two vehicles to pass if each moved two wheels over onto
the gravel shoulder. There was no room for this thundering juggernaut
to pass. If anything, it accelerated, the air horn blasting to announce
its presence.
‘These lorry mens too much bad drivers,’ remarked our fine
chauffeur, looking sheepish all of a sudden.
I told David and Esther they’d better get out fast. They retreated
to a safe distance, where Esther resumed her recitation of David’s
shortcomings as man and husband.
I ran ahead, waving the carrier down. The air horn continued to
blare steadily, dust flying up all around, as the huge image of a
gnashing metal death lurched all over the road. Now another horn
– sounding more like something from a clown’s pocket – joined in.
Poop! Poop! I thought of Toad of Toad Hall. Poop-poop!
‘I don’t think they’ve seen us. What do you think?’ I asked the
driver. He shook his head in horror, wringing his oily hands and
hopping from foot to foot. I started jumping up and down, tearing
off my shirt and waving it. The carrier was now a mere hundred
yards off, still honking atonally. I was about to throw myself into a
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