It’s a Friday morning in Doddanekundi - that brief window when the city pretends to be sane. Ceiling fan humming, coffee mug sweating, a faint Kishore Kumar song escaping my playlist (“Zindagi ek safar hai suhana…”). I roll out my Isuzu V-Cross - my dear bull. A beast too big for these roads, too kind for my cholesterol, too clean for Bengaluru. The city’s still half-asleep, the air smells of wet tar and ambition, and I tell myself: “Bas ek short drive, clear the mind, clear the arteries.” But, haha… Bengaluru has other plans. Act I: When Auto Meets Ego Just as I slide into that meditative left lane, an auto swoops in from a parallel universe. No indicators, no...