Ever been stuck in a traffic jam on a long flyover? It can be one of the most heartless, lonely and despairing aspects of urban living. Lifted above the human concourse down below—in a flat, treeless ribbon of asphalt—you have nothing but stilled battalions of fuming, grinding metal ahead of you. It’s also a most ironical thing: why should movement halt at all on an elevated road built especially so that we can glide seamlessly? Next, imagine the jam easing. You step on the gas to make up for lost time, to reach that 12.30 meeting, on the empty stretch afterward…and suddenly there looms into view the dreaded white-and-blue posse! For a lot of India, they always shared some traits with highway robbers. And now, a challan can mean the better part of your month’s salary. No wonder a drunken sod in Delhi preferred to set his mobike on fire rather than pay Rs 25,000.