A gloomy day greeted my arrival in Moscow. This was not much different from home, I thought. Besides, I am not a stranger here I am, after all, of this place. Within minutes I was dispossessed of this thought. The mad traffic, with no traffic lines to guide them, make a cut-throat dash to force themselves into the traffic flow.
Drivers hoot and scream in gothic rage.
A car is in the way, blocking the traffic flow. From nowhere, a police car arrives, lights flashing. The occupants of the offending car are dragged out and beaten. Everyone looks straight ahead. I whisper to my driver.