Distilling my hatred for driving
For the very first time, I suddenly thought of distilling my hatred for driving in writing. Figuring out the reasons behind my hatred
For the very first time, I suddenly thought of distilling my hatred for driving in writing. Figuring out the reasons behind my hatred
Recently, I made a round-trip to my hometown. The drive there was horrendous. I left on a weekday night. It wasn’t a public holiday, nor was it the end of the working week. Yet, the drive took a lot longer than expected due to unforeseen circumstances like roadblocks and roadworks.
The drive back, however, was even worse compared to the drive there. It took even longer to reach my destination—and mind you, it still wasn’t a public holiday. It was just a regular Sunday. The first half was a terrible traffic jam, while the second half wasn’t, which didn’t make much sense. Maybe there had been an accident along the way, though I didn't see any sign of it. All I know is that nothing justified the traffic. There was no clear reason for it.
Stuck in the middle of the traffic, I started to wonder: Why do I hate driving so much? For the very first time, I wanted to distill all this hatred into writing and figure out the reasons behind it.
For the longest time, I have hated to drive. I only drove because there wasn’t much of a choice. It is a necessity, especially in this country. Come to think of it, why did I hate driving so much? Maybe I should rewind to when I was 18—the year I got my driving license.
I actually kind of passed the exam by luck. Of course, as a Christian, there is no such thing as luck; it was definitely all in God’s plan. However, deep down, I knew I should have failed the exam because I did so badly.
Through my years in university, I can recount having a few car accidents—like two or three times. One was near my family's old house, and another was near the T-junction by the Ibu Pejabat Kerajaan Polis (IPK). I think there was one more accident, but I can’t exactly remember it. Moreover, I constantly hit those solid cement curbs and occasional low rocks, which led to my lower left and right bumpers constantly being damaged…
Strictly speaking, driving itself has barely brought any joy to me. It was a cycle of constant mistakes and trauma. The scariest incident was last year in January, when I almost got into a bad accident because a policeman abruptly blocked the road when the light was green…
Furthermore, I hate long drives as they are very draining. I always feel exhausted after a few hours of driving—my body stiffens and my butt hurts. Being stuck in a traffic jam is the worst. Driving itself feels energy-draining and time-consuming.
Sometimes, I get very annoyed by these types of drivers:
I never understood how someone could enjoy driving. Some describe it as a form of therapy. I, on the other hand, just want to reach my destination as fast as possible…
Deep down, I know this is not how God wants me to see things. Because…
Unfortunately, I don’t think I will stop ranting about the things I have mentioned, even though I know the blessings I have. Sounds ungrateful, huh? Some people might even say it is a blessing to be stuck in a traffic jam. To that, I will definitely say: you are crazy. Why would anyone appreciate being held up in a traffic jam? In fact, traffic jams are basically a form of modern-day torture.
In the end, I can only ponder and wonder: Will I one day stop hating driving?