On some days I get home faster and on some days I get home slower. The traffic is a bit unpredictable. It’s generally easier on Mondays than other days as I guess it must be thanks to the retail business holiday. But the unpredictability of the route is typically concentrated in only what might be 5% of the complete route distance.
That my attempt to make a some statement like 80% of variability in returns depend on asset allocation rather than eth asset fluctuation. I know, it sounds like fart and it may not make sense to you (or me); but there is some serious science behind this stuff.
So there is a patch on the route that makes the commute highly unpredictable. If there is traffic on that route I am doomed at the spot anywhere 15 to 50 minutes. I could walk faster through that patch. It is sion koliwada. The interior heart of the place. the place where are large chawls with Jai Bhim written in blue, where just of the road there is a colony called sardar nagar, and large slums with south Indians dominate. All in all it seems to be a very potent combination. This road through the place did not exist a few years ago. The carved a road from here to the highway which leads to my complex. This is a short cut and I safely save 20 minutes else I would have to make the great turn at priyadarshini circle which at peak hours is horribly horribly jammed.
So the traffic I get once in ten days (a little dense) or once in 20 days (quite slow) and once in 30 days (we are celebrating some festival you dickhead) is well worth the trouble.
Especially the last one. Once in 30 days (I suspect the instances are getting closer) there is some festival or another by some community. Since it is a densely populated area comprising of the lower income group, the political parties are also fairly active there. We rich basterds rarely vote and we are too far spread to really rally around. So on and off there will be a rally, a stage built on the bloody road, a procession, some dance and excitement and a large mass of people roaming around. Recently the monorail which is expected to pass through narrowed the roads further, dug some stuff up, erected barricades and then just as suddenly, filled the holes and left, leaving rubble. So much happens in that one or two kilometre stretch that it makes the rest of my commute seem mundane in comparison. Well actually, the rest is mundane. How exciting can western express highway followed by a cut through dharavi and a drive past Sion hospital get. There is one really stupid cross road just at the start of the mad street. The cross road by itself is not srazy. Poor thing. It just lies there. The craziness is due to the cars that insist on creating logjams there. The bus coming in from opposite wants to turn to its right and invariably finds itself facing a car on the wrong side which is trying to manoeuvre, in order to pass the bike which is stuck as the car ahead is overtaking a waiting line which in turn got jammed by the original bus leading to other in my line rushing forward on the wrong side in the hope that somehow by reaching ahead they will beat the system, causing many more to follow suit and then some want to take the turn which is to my right to get inside, but is a no entry, but who cares anyway as that lane has cars parked all over and has many garages that park their cars on the kerb while they work on it and the ….. you got the point. Dint you?
You pass that and you get to the chaotic bazaar right ahead. I think the yoga I have been doing must be helping me here. The other day there was a procession of the South Indians. They had completely jammed the road. The crowd was so great that the bikes which normally make their way too were pretty much stuck. Yoga connection? I was happily stuck. It did not bother me one bit. I was pretty much unfazed. At one point I even stepped out and locked the car. I was enjoying the music I couldn’t understand a word of. I was enjoying the crowd, smiling at people, laughing and cracking jokes with the bikes who were hassled. Sharing a smile, everything. Just short of dancing alongwith the crowd. It was some weird festival. The guys were in a procession carrying some pots and garlands around. But the interesting bit was the human self torture. They had these huge hooks which were essentially hooked up on their backs, with the hooks passing through the skin and they were pulling stuff with it. Some were pulling loads of coconuts while one guys I saw… what the hell was that… he was pulling a god dam TAXI? Whoa. Then there were the others who had huge rods piercing their cheeks. They went in from one side to come out through the other. And they would be roaming around with that hanging on their cheeks. Weird. I have a few of these before. Never understood why they torture themselves such.
Here is the pic of the rod guy.
The rod is much bigger than what you see and the reason he is so bending as he is trying to manoeuvre his rod between the traffic. Swaying from side to side.
I can’t believe this shit still happens. Now I guess I know why I am not that religious. They all seem to lead to some form of flagellation. Suffering is intrinsic in religion I guess.
That my attempt to make a some statement like 80% of variability in returns depend on asset allocation rather than eth asset fluctuation. I know, it sounds like fart and it may not make sense to you (or me); but there is some serious science behind this stuff.
So there is a patch on the route that makes the commute highly unpredictable. If there is traffic on that route I am doomed at the spot anywhere 15 to 50 minutes. I could walk faster through that patch. It is sion koliwada. The interior heart of the place. the place where are large chawls with Jai Bhim written in blue, where just of the road there is a colony called sardar nagar, and large slums with south Indians dominate. All in all it seems to be a very potent combination. This road through the place did not exist a few years ago. The carved a road from here to the highway which leads to my complex. This is a short cut and I safely save 20 minutes else I would have to make the great turn at priyadarshini circle which at peak hours is horribly horribly jammed.
So the traffic I get once in ten days (a little dense) or once in 20 days (quite slow) and once in 30 days (we are celebrating some festival you dickhead) is well worth the trouble.
Especially the last one. Once in 30 days (I suspect the instances are getting closer) there is some festival or another by some community. Since it is a densely populated area comprising of the lower income group, the political parties are also fairly active there. We rich basterds rarely vote and we are too far spread to really rally around. So on and off there will be a rally, a stage built on the bloody road, a procession, some dance and excitement and a large mass of people roaming around. Recently the monorail which is expected to pass through narrowed the roads further, dug some stuff up, erected barricades and then just as suddenly, filled the holes and left, leaving rubble. So much happens in that one or two kilometre stretch that it makes the rest of my commute seem mundane in comparison. Well actually, the rest is mundane. How exciting can western express highway followed by a cut through dharavi and a drive past Sion hospital get. There is one really stupid cross road just at the start of the mad street. The cross road by itself is not srazy. Poor thing. It just lies there. The craziness is due to the cars that insist on creating logjams there. The bus coming in from opposite wants to turn to its right and invariably finds itself facing a car on the wrong side which is trying to manoeuvre, in order to pass the bike which is stuck as the car ahead is overtaking a waiting line which in turn got jammed by the original bus leading to other in my line rushing forward on the wrong side in the hope that somehow by reaching ahead they will beat the system, causing many more to follow suit and then some want to take the turn which is to my right to get inside, but is a no entry, but who cares anyway as that lane has cars parked all over and has many garages that park their cars on the kerb while they work on it and the ….. you got the point. Dint you?
You pass that and you get to the chaotic bazaar right ahead. I think the yoga I have been doing must be helping me here. The other day there was a procession of the South Indians. They had completely jammed the road. The crowd was so great that the bikes which normally make their way too were pretty much stuck. Yoga connection? I was happily stuck. It did not bother me one bit. I was pretty much unfazed. At one point I even stepped out and locked the car. I was enjoying the music I couldn’t understand a word of. I was enjoying the crowd, smiling at people, laughing and cracking jokes with the bikes who were hassled. Sharing a smile, everything. Just short of dancing alongwith the crowd. It was some weird festival. The guys were in a procession carrying some pots and garlands around. But the interesting bit was the human self torture. They had these huge hooks which were essentially hooked up on their backs, with the hooks passing through the skin and they were pulling stuff with it. Some were pulling loads of coconuts while one guys I saw… what the hell was that… he was pulling a god dam TAXI? Whoa. Then there were the others who had huge rods piercing their cheeks. They went in from one side to come out through the other. And they would be roaming around with that hanging on their cheeks. Weird. I have a few of these before. Never understood why they torture themselves such.
Here is the pic of the rod guy.
The rod is much bigger than what you see and the reason he is so bending as he is trying to manoeuvre his rod between the traffic. Swaying from side to side.
I can’t believe this shit still happens. Now I guess I know why I am not that religious. They all seem to lead to some form of flagellation. Suffering is intrinsic in religion I guess.
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