The engine roars, the heart pumps and the tyres screech, throwing mud and gravel smack into the face of anyone dumb enough to put his face right behind the wheels of the Ford Fiesta, doing 140 km/h on the highway. The red Mahindra Scorpio is about five kilometers in front, racing at an incredible speed, thinking that it has finally seen the last of the Fiesta. After all, it is but a speck in traffic, and there are already a dozen cars and trucks between them.

But as far as the Fiesta was concerned, the cars and trucks between them were merely parked on the highway; momentary obstacles to whizz past. Inevitably, the inevitable happens. The Fiesta cuts ahead, leaving the Scorpio baffled, troubled, and lost in traffic.

No. This isn't a snippet from a new Hollywood release. This is a personal episode from my life I like to call "The Fast and the Curious". Maybe it would be better if I started at the beginning. This November, I had got an uncharacteristically long vacation from work, and I had intended to spend it exclusively getting tanned by TV rays. However, (continue reading)