Episode 6

"A Chariot of Chaos!"

If Shakespeare Tried Riding a Scooter in Chennai

After his delightful experience with pizza delivery, William Shakespeare decided it was time to truly embrace the local way of life in Chennai. He'd observed countless locals zipping through the bustling streets on two-wheeled contraptions called "scooters." They looked nimble, swift, and far more akin to a chariot than that enclosed "BMW" he'd endured.

"Indeed," he mused, stroking his chin, "If one is to truly understand this land, one must traverse its thoroughfares like a native!"

He managed to borrow a bright blue scooter from a friendly shopkeeper, who, after a brief and baffling attempt to explain "gears" and "brakes," simply pointed to the ignition and made a "vroom-vroom" sound. Shakespeare nodded sagely, pretending to understand.

Shakespeare (to the scooter): "Fear not, noble steed of the mechanical age! Together, we shall conquer these urban plains!"

He fumbled with the key, eventually twisting it until the engine roared to life with a startling sputter. He managed to sit astride it, feeling a surge of misplaced confidence. He gingerly twisted the right handle, and the scooter lurched forward, almost taking out a stack of coconuts.

"Whoa, there, beast!" he cried, wrestling the handlebars. "A gentle hand, I beseech thee!"

With a series of wobbly starts and near-stumbles, he somehow steered the scooter onto the main road. And that's when the true chaos began.

The road was a symphony of horns: short honks, long blares, a constant, unrelenting chorus. Auto-rickshaws weaved like angry bees, buses loomed like metal giants, and other scooters darted in every direction. Shakespeare, used to the occasional clip-clop of hooves, was utterly overwhelmed.

Shakespeare (shouting over the din): "By Jove! Is this a battlefield? Are these charioteers warring for the very asphalt beneath us?"

He narrowly avoided a sacred cow that seemed to appear from nowhere, letting out a most un-Bard-like squeak. Then, a bicycle laden with flowers suddenly swerved in front of him.

"Hold, knave!" Shakespeare yelled, almost losing his balance. "Dost thou not see this magnificent conveyance of speed?"

He tried to slow down, but instead of the brake, he twisted the accelerator even harder. The scooter shot forward with a sudden burst, sending a stray chicken squawking and scattering.

Shakespeare: "Ye gods! This contraption hath a mind of its own! It rebels against my very will!"

A young lad on another scooter, effortlessly balancing a towering stack of tiffin boxes, zipped past him, shaking his head. Shakespeare, mortified, clutched the handlebars tighter, his ruff flapping wildly in the wind. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, a mix of fear and utter bewilderment.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only five minutes, he spotted a small, quiet alleyway. With a final, desperate lurch, he veered into it, narrowly missing a brightly painted wall. He slammed on the brakes (the correct ones this time!) and the scooter shuddered to a halt.

He dismounted, his legs wobbly, and leaned the scooter against a wall. His face was pale, his eyes wide with a newfound respect for Chennai's two-wheeled warriors.

Shakespeare (gasping for breath): "Never again! I would sooner face a hundred Romans in battle than navigate that infernal thoroughfare upon this… this motorized menace! Give me a good horse, or even mine own two weary feet, but spare me the madness of this 'scooter' and its honking kin!"

He decided that for the foreseeable future, walking was indeed a most underrated mode of transport. He'd write a sonnet about it. Or maybe just a very long, very loud curse.

Join us next time as Shakespeare attempts to understand the bewildering world of online shopping!