My signal turned green.
I began to move – and banged into a motorcycle going the wrong way, and breaking the signal into the bargain.
With my hand and foot mildly grazed, I was more than a little angry. I had not yet noticed that my bike was damaged, or I would have been still angrier. The rider was a little sheepish and did not say much, but the woman riding pillion was enraged with me.
“My signal was green, couldn’t you see?” I fumed. “I was in the right! Why do people who cannot follow rules ride?”
In turn, she asked me if I could not see, if I was blind.
Even more angered, I repeated that the signal was green for me.
Her eyes blazed. She accused my of flinging abuses at her. She said she could ensure I was beaten.
Angry, helpless and bemused, I had nothing else to say. I could only repeat that I was in the right!
“Green, red, green, red,” she threw at me. “If you cannot even see a motorcycle, how can you see the signal?”
Her reasoning to me was this. The signal was secondary. I had no right to be on the road if I could not even see a motorcycle.
I was frustrated with my own inability to react. There was no one to stay back and vouch for me. There were no cops, and I did not think of telling her to accompany me to the police station. I took down the motorcycle number – MH12 GW 2743 – but I was left with a sense of utter helplessness. I simply could not make the woman understand that the signal was the defining factor, not the motorcycle going the wrong way and cutting across traffic that is all set to move. If I could not see a motorcycle, I had no right to be on the road. She left feeling self-righteous, I am sure.