Driving an unregistered, unreliable scooter, heads uncovered, with a not-yet-2-yr-old sandwiched, wriggling, between the two of you, often whilst negotiating a blind turn into the face of a variety of mechanical and animal road-users, would seem in the UK to be the very last word in recklessness. Here, though, I feel that we cut an authentic Indian family model. When texting, or better yet, whilst transporting an unwieldy item (like a shelving unit, or 30litre water container, say) I feel that the look is complete.
The key factor in road safety, notwithstanding the innumerable hazards and road condition, is speed. Cruising at a stately 40kph, all the obstacles are apprehensible; at 60kph, you end up swerving wildly and your spinal column crashes painfully like a falling accordion, usually whilst insects the size and weight of sparrows pelt you in the face.
Kate recalls staying in the Andaman’s and becoming so paranoid of being hit by a falling coconut that she and Chloe took to wearing helmets when walking under the trees. We haven’t yet reached this level of hysteria, but gazing out on our garden as Max capers about, with his soft skull offering something of a perfect target for any of the several weighty coconuts above, does give us pause for thought. We approached Sandeep, the landlord, to ask about the danger. He brushed the risk aside, pointing out that never had anyone been struck by a coconut on his property. We smiled. He then mimed the falling of heavy objects and added ‘Landing this side, that side, very close, but not hit anyone’. We stopped smiling at this, even when Sandeep reassured us, ‘This Ok. Because you know, we have Shiva.’
Belief in Richard Dawkins seems to offer less protection, so we have an agreement that Sandeep will put some netting up for us.
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