I like great drivers. They’re very rare. Those with that nice mix of speed, a sense of adventure and near superhuman control. Sometimes they give my fellow passengers heart stopping moments. When the lights blur and flee, the road knows anti-gravity and in my veins pop little sparks of bliss. As “Rasaathi” flows over the speakers, in the midst of the music and movement of a pandemic stricken planet, I smirk between the seats and snap this. Destinations are tickets for me to take journeys. Journeys are made better with pilots who smoke lightning and with companions who appreciate them.