At the ‘best’ of times, Bengaluru’s traffic is an unmitigated disaster, compounded by slabs of asphalt around gaping potholes. This was better than the best of times; a 17-year itch had finally been scratched, Royal Challengers Bengaluru had, at long last, reached the Promised Land.

In the immediacy of RCB wrapping their collective hands around the Indian Premier League trophy for the first time on Tuesday night, life in the one-time Garden City came to an absolute standstill. Vast stretches of some of the most iconic thoroughfares were swamped by thousands who came out to express their appreciation at their heroes’ tryst with glory. Vehicular movement was non-existent, but there was none of the usual impatience, no angry words exchanged, no instances of road rage that have become the norm in recent times.

There was the blaring of horns – of course there will be – but these weren’t strident cries for right of way. There was a musical, synchronous touch to the honking; it started with ‘AarCeeBee, AarCeeBee, AarCeeBeee’ until the horns fell silent and chants of ‘Kohli, Kohli, Kohli’ ripped through what would otherwise have been a silent night air. After 17 unsuccessful tilts at ultimate redemption, Kohli was finally an IPL champion.