A couple of weeks ago, on a drive back home from the weekly grocery shopping trip, I had a taste – a lot more than a sampling – of road rage that at first stumped me with the imminent danger posed by the antagonised driver, before turning into a mental scream that refused to quieten.

Going by the rules of the road, I was not in the wrong. That much I am certain – but I wouldn’t wager my savings to prove the other driver was wrong. Not my cup of coffee that.   

The point here, though, is that that other driver decided to prove he is right by loudly slamming on his brake, rolling down his window to hurl insults in my direction, and pressing on the horn before swerving into the oncoming road. It was a masterclass in road rage on full display for everyone present on the road at that time

The encounter left me speechless – read that as frozen; the bitter aftertaste regurgitating all through the weekend.

The scene was this: I was moving into a service lane, perpendicular to a two-way road after verifying the other side was free for me to make my move. The driver, who was idling on the service road to enter the main road, decides to make the move at the exact same moment, missing my car by inches, right in the middle of the road. 

I press my brakes and he does too. His sudden brake lends a loud screeching sound, as he simultaneously presses the horn, lowers the window to shout out his displeasure.

He manages to halt the traffic on the road for a full minute to berate me before pressing on the throttle to drive away.

Other drivers join in the chorus to honk their displeasure at the forced delay – giving me an eyeful of their disdain.

Shaken and frustrated, I slap my mind shut to quietly make the left turn and drive away. Letting counter rage slowly build in me, waiting for it to turn to a crescendo as I park below my building.

Yes, I let my car door get a taste of that buildup.

But no, I will not indulge in road rage!