You may have seen the masses of congested driving in large cities in our country, and while we do experience Puja Traffic jams occasionally, in our sleepy little town things normally move at a less congested pace.
The rickshaw drivers near our house just chill out most of the day,
The cows march wherever they want,
And sit wherever they want.
And while the snack carts and pedestrians on your left, the motorcycles zipping around your vehicle, and the massive trucks and buses that do not seem to care about lanes may frighten you your first few days in the country, you get used to it.
The driving is dangerous, but not as dangerous as it looks.
However, we send out many prayers to guys like these street repairmen (or -boys),
Who are at what we presume is the bottom of the manual-labor ladder in South Asia
(which is saying something),
manually heating up barrels of tar, manually mixing it with gravel, and manually spreading it onto the road--with no breathing masks.
But with so many cars on the road, anxious to see the pandals and idols during these weeks, the city invests great amounts of time, money, and road tar into making traffic flow.