Rush Hour

Every square inch of the road during the rush hour is precious. It is in great demand and possessed with a ferocious aggression even if it is only taken only for a fleeting moment. If you don't fight for it, you are continually pushed back in the race to get there. It is a desperate struggle every day, from morning till late evening. A hoard of vehicles bearing down the avenue, capturing every available space, and flowing like river out of bounds, choking on the bottlenecks, fanning out on broader path and converging again at the intersections. Like an army, the swarm of vehicles of a great variety advance in ever widening arrays, covering the flanks so that not even a dog may pass through.