Bluefields Blues (standard:non fiction, 1578 words)
Author: Juggernaut	Added: Jan 24 2011	Views/Reads: 2780/1746	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A short biographic sketch on poor choices

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

GP for short. Born into a business family, his catch phrase was “I am a 
business man you know.” With him every issue and event was either a 
loss or profit; his fingers were always tapping in the air as if he was 
calculating something. Dr. Mukherjee was an old time medical 
practitioner; he loved to show off his tolerance level for hot peppers 
by taking a big bite of raw Jamaican Scotch Bonnet hot pepper. A 
conversation with him always ended up with falling value of local 
dollar. Mr. Misra was an expert on bauxite processing; his favorite 
subject was Haitian zombies and voodoo medicine for mental illness.  
Mr. Pillai was only Indian expat that played golf and hang out with 
only British expats. Born in East Africa and migrated to England at an 
early age, Mr. Modi came to the island as crops irrigation expert.   He 
was only Indian expat was dating a local woman working in a bank.  She 
was very kind and gave preferential treatment to any Indian expat 
visiting her bank.  Mrs. Singh, the wife of a Canadian expat loved the 
tropical warm climate so much she was always in shorts saying she 
couldn't dare wearing shorts back home in Canada yearround. 

“Now you got a brand new car now, let's go to Bluefields beach this
weekend,” said GP. 

“I just got the driver's license few days ago and not sure whether I can
handle the treacherous downhill drive to the beach,” Juggernaut was 
doubtful. 

“Well, I will be your pilot, driving just ahead of your car, if I slow
down, you put breaks, you just follow my car, is that simple ” GP was 
assuring. 

One sunny weekend, GP was ready with his family to drive to Bluefields
Beach as a pilot and Juggernaut to follow him.  The plan was GP will 
drive slowly to allow Juggernaut to follow closely; in case of an 
emergency or some unforeseen road conditions, GP will slow down his car 
and give a hand signal to Juggernaut to slow down in advance so that 
Juggernaut  don't have to face a panic situation to make risky 
decisions as an inexperienced driver. 

On the way, Juggernaut noticed that GP was applying breaks continuously
to slow down his vehicle on a steep downhill road rather than driving 
in low gear. He wondered about GP's driving techniques.  The dangerous 
winding downhill road with sharp hairpin turns reminded Juggernaut of 
such a bus route he took as a pilgrim to visit Lord Balaji temple in 
his old country.  The route to the temple was so dangerous, the  
devotees in the bus chant ‘Govinda' ‘Govinda' loudly to boost the 
driver's morale and feel confident that God Govinda would make the trip 
safe.  Juggernaut started chanting ‘Govinda'  ‘Lord Govinda' loudly to 
drive his own spirits up while driving carefully behind GP's car 
through sharp twists and turns. 

On reaching the bottom of the hill, a 2000 feet drop, Juggernaut felt
safe and confident though still nervous.  Now, the route was along the 
panoramic Southwest coastline of the island. The road was very narrow 
and winding with both sides covered with overgrown bushes over mounds 
of dirt.  The telephone poles were encroaching on to the narrow street 
that allowed two -way traffic.  While driving through a sea side town 
of Bluefields, a sleepy town right on the coast, all of a sudden, 
Juggernaut saw an unsteady man running to the center of the street from 
left to right as GP's car passed him and again he ran back towards 
Juggernaut's car as Juggernaut steered the car to his extreme left to 
avoid hitting the man only to crash into a telephone pole.  The drunken 
man hit the front-end right bumper and fell on to the street.  With his 
car crashed against the pole, a drunk lying on middle of street, 
Juggernaut saw GP stopped his car at some distance and came walking 
slowly. 

“What happened man?” asked BP looking at the drunk laying on the street
and juggernaut getting out from the crash. 

“I thought you are supposed to be my pilot to warn against such an event
like this?” asked Juggernaut. 

With no answer from GP, Juggernaut wondered why GP driving in front did
not stop or at least slow down when he saw a drunk was crisscrossing 
the street in a disorderly fashion in front of his car. As per the 
plan, as a precaution, he should have slow down or stop to warn 
Juggernaut behind to stop to avoid the accident.  The whole episode was 
bazaar. This accident could have been prevented altogether if not for 
GP's inaction. An ambulance took care of the injured drunk. It is a 
good thing that the engine of VW was located in the back in trunk area 
unlike in all other cars.  The engine was in a good shape though the 
windshield and the front end was totally smashed. Throughout the 
incident, GP was walking around with a smirk on his face. Juggernaut 
blamed himself for his own poor choices leading up to this accident 
particularly believing in GP whom he hardly knew. “Wish I never met 
him,” thought the despondent Juggernaut. 

Though well over three decades passed since the Bluefields accident,
Juggernaut still feels the Bluefields blues particularly when he drives 
through winding narrow roads. 


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