The Great Commute Conspiracy: Is Your ‘Rush hour’ secretly a ‘snail time’..!

Alright my dears, grab a cuppa (or maybe a strong coffee, depending on your morning commute experience!) because today, I want to talk about something we all know, all experience, and all secretly (or not-so-secretly) despise. Yes, you guessed it: traffic.

Now, they call it “rush hour,” don’t they? Officially, in all the city planning documents and news reports, it’s “rush hour.” But honestly, sitting here in Ahmedabad, reflecting on the daily grind, I’ve come to a profound (and slightly exasperated) conclusion. “Rush hour” is a marketing lie. It’s actually “Snail Hour.”

Think about it. We’re all rushing to get somewhere. The office, school pickups, home for that eagerly awaited dinner (or just a well-deserved couch-potato session). Our minds are racing, our internal clocks are ticking louder than a Bollywood soundtrack, and our feet are itching to press that accelerator. But what happens?

Absolutely nothing remotely resembling a “rush.” Instead, you find yourself inching forward, centimeter by agonizing centimeter.

Your perfectly aligned car becomes just another shell in a long, glittering, exhaust-fume-filled chain of metallic molluscs.

You try to weave, you try to spot that elusive gap, your indicators flash with desperate optimism, but the traffic, like a wise, ancient guru with infinite patience, simply smiles and deliberately, deliberately slows you down.

It’s a bizarre cosmic joke, isn’t it? The very time we most want to speed up is precisely when the universe decides to put us in a time-out. You could be driving the latest sports car, a cheetah among snails, but you’re still forced to lumber along at the pace of a heavily laden bullock cart.

Your grand plans for the evening? They’re now subject to the whims of a delivery truck trying to make a three-point turn in a two-point street.

I mean, how many times have you found yourself observing the world outside your window during these “snail hours”? I’ve practically become an amateur urban ornithologist, counting pigeons on overhead wires.

I’ve mentally redecorated every shop front, planned entire fictional dialogues between pedestrians, and contemplated the philosophical implications of a perpetually red traffic light. My car’s cabin has become my personal contemplation chamber, whether I like it or not!

So, the next time you’re stuck, remember: you’re not in “rush hour.” You’re in “Snail Hour.” Take a deep breath (try not to inhale too many fumes!), put on some good music or a podcast, and surrender to the cosmic joke. Because no matter how much you want to rush, the traffic, bless its deliberate heart, will always, always win.

How do you cope with these “Snail Hours”? Do you have any secret strategies for staying sane? Share your wisdom in the comments below!