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  • Writer's pictureVedashree Khambete Sharma


Welcome to Fuck Off and Die Thursdays.

As you know, this blog is full of random rants at Life, the Universe and Everything. But all these rants have been a little haphazard so far. Lacking in organisation, as it would. And that simply won’t do for an OCD freak like me. Ergo, FOAD Thursdays.

Every now and then, on a particular Thursday, I shall vent my spleen at the stupid, the slow and the downright annoying.

Today’s volunteers for this not-so-rare honour are the Cyclists of Mumbai. Men, who cycle as if:

a) They’re out for a fresh breath of air in the English countryside, and not, as they actually seem to be, trying to manouevre their way out of Mumbai’s many smoggy, snake-like traffic-jams.

b) They’re racing with a three-year-old on a tricycle – a mean, competitive little toddler who’s going to win this contest hands down.

c) They’re trying to make a case for the need to introduce riding licenses.

d) They have been blessed with the hand-eye coordination of a severely drunk chihuahua.

Their cycling skills invariably cause me to break suddenly and dangerously, throwing my already damaged lower back further out of alignment. And so today, I have a request for these wonderful specimens of humanity.

Gentlemen, please. Fuck off and die.

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