Crossing the road any major Indian city is an art; a challenge; an act of daredevilry.
Yesterday evening, I came to a halt at the sight of a line of crazily veering vehicles – only to feel a tug at my arm.
I turned my head.
“What are you stopping for?” asked a querulous voice.
It was my daughter. The same little girl I would instruct, in serious tones, to “not try this when you’re alone” on the rare occasions we’d dart across a busy intersection.
This was a weird reversal of roles.