Road rage

Road rage is something I was quite sure that would not affect me. My confidence in my patience was high. After having tackled hundreds of irate passengers during my stint at the airport, I was immune to provocation, or so I thought.
After a tough night shift, I was driving back home early in the morning when the density of trafffic was comparatively low. ‘Deep Purple’ were belting out my favorite songs and keeping me awake and alert on my drive home. I had developed the habit of giving all the autorickshaw drivers a wide berth to let them pass uneventfully. But they are like flying cockroaches, flitting around without a care in the world, asserting their right of on every bit of tarmac they see. Everybody who has to use the road had a love hate relationship with the autorickshaw drivers. Hated them for their arrogance and loved them for the convenience they offered. They could never be ignored.
I could see one autorickshaw in the rear view mirror trying to get ahead desperately. In normal circumstances I would have let him go but on that particular morning, I decided not to let him as long as possible.
And then the fun started! He began maneuvering to pass me by inching forward at the signals. Just as he was about to pass by I dont really know what happened but I swerved into him and as suddenly realised that I was losing my temper and got back to let him pass.
Phew. That was close. Ever since, I refuse to be drawn into any such action that would result in injury to mind or body.