So we’re two showers into the great annual fiasco, and we know the drill, don’t we? Roads will cave in, trees will collapse, road laying scams will rear up their ugly heads, someone will find an excuse to hold a bandh and set a bus or two on fire. And soon enough, epidemics will sweep the land, trains will derail, houses will crumble like last year’s fruit cake, open manholes will swallow people whole, something nasty will happen to that great jurassic beast we call the Metro. And on and on, until it’s September, and the heat leaves us stunned and the sea brims with poisonous Ganeshas, and the taps run dry, and a new excuse to hold a bandh, block train lines and break some buses will reveal itself.
But right now, it is quiet.
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