....so its been a super hectic two weeks in my life, with no time to blog, bum around or go to the beauty parlour! I have travelled the length and breadth of this mad city...sometimes twice over in a day. Which makes me want to thank all the constellations up in the sky that I chose PR as a career and not Sales in a capitalist behemoth! But more than that my thanks are due to the cabbies of Bombay who ferried me north, south, east, west, over the Bandra Worli Sea Link, on the Eastern Express Highway and so on and on and on and on...If it was not you, gentlemen, I would have contemplated migration to Tajikistan! Now, many of you who might read this (and I really hope, there are many of you!) might smirk and say, 'yeah right'! I would have too, considering the first time I liberally used cuss words (Hindi style!) were for a cabbie who decided to charge me 75 bucks to go from VT Station to Kala Ghoda during my Max Mueller days. Yes, some of these 'bhaiyas' defy sense and logic while finding directions...yes, at times they think Michael Schumacher is their alter ego...and yes, you yearn to experience a semblance of politeness from them. Having said ALL that, the last fortnight has been such an eye-opener, it almost felt like I was in Black and Yellow heaven! For starters, I realized that these cabbies were not obnoxious ogres, just pseudo-normal (I love that word!) people like you and I- with hopes, dreams and ambitions which go beyond getting new tyres and kitschy lights for the dash-board! All we need to do is listen to them when they talk...and yes, they talked a L-O-T considering the distances I travelled! Examples of some rock-stars on wheels:1. Cabbies=Ignoramus? Right? WRONG! It's unbelievable, how many prejudices we have about the guys that help us be on the move. That they are ignorant and illiterate, they drink and beat up their wives and kids, they do not have an urge to break their status quo, being some amongst the laundry list we have all collectively created. I had the opportunity of meeting two middle-aged cab- drivers, who amongst many other things were extremely proud fathers. Cabbie 1 overheard me speaking to my client about the media attendance for an event the next day and started speaking fondly about how his sons are also perenially on the phone- both of them Engineers; one works for Tata Motors(!) and the works for Cisco(!!) in Bangalore. I thought this was so awesome, until I spoke with Cabbie 2. He overheard me speaking with my mom and launched into a conversation about how he misses his 30-year old daughter who lives in Delhi. I say,"Delhi? Is she studying/working there?"; and he goes,"Yes, she works for the Government of India. My daughter is a senior analyst with the Research and Analysis Wing." Thankfully, before I fainted in shock I had reached my destination. These two incidents spoke volumes about how these hard-working men wished for and got a better life for their kids! Truly inspiring...
2. I have never met an Indian with opinions as strong as that of Cabbie 3, about the state of political affairs in the country. Right from psycho-analysing the minds of Mrs.G and a certain politician who is in love with slogans about the 'Marathi Manoos' to adding up the collective worth of sugar-barons turned politicos of Maharashtra, our man had a piece of his mind ready on everything. And why did he spew all this out to me...I just made the mistake of saying, "Go straight ahead from the road near Mantralaya!" Future neta...maybe, but most likely not as I do not think Cabbie 3 has a famous surname and lineage. What a shame!3. Cabbie 4 was a Sardar-ji- completely no-nonsense and as I found out later, superlatively protective. I got into Sardar-ji's cab in Juhu at about 10pm to head home to Thane. Now, Thane as you may or may not be aware is a far, far, FAR away suburb of Bombay...Hell, who am I kidding?! It is technically another city on the outskirts of Bombay. To get home, I have to alight from a Bombay cab, cross the border on foot and then take an auto-rickshaw...phew! Now, in normal circumstances I would have alighted, opened my bag a bit, inched my fingers to catch hold of my mace spray and walked through the throngs of drunk truck drivers at the octroi check post and dived into any passing auto. Not this time. The moment we reached the border Cabbie Sardar-ji (i) insisted on breaking the rules and driving me home himself. When I protested saying he would be in major trouble for doing that, (ii) he insisted that he would find me an auto. So there I was, at 11.30 in the night, driving around with Cabbie Sardar-ji on the Bombay- Thane border, trying to find an auto that would take me home. The first auto that came along looked like a mobile disco- blaring music, throbbing neon lights and all. Sardar-ji says, "You are not getting into this one, for sure." The second one that came around also did not pass Sardar-ji's test. "The guy is a letch," he passed his verdict. And so I waited for 20 minutes, before Mr. S assessed and analyzed each auto and auto-wallah. Finally, he goes, "Madam-ji, mil gaya aapke liye auto! Chaliye!" After I finished paying Mr.S (please note: he did not charge me Rs.60 for the toll), I made my way to my ride home...and guess what I find- an ooooold, no make that annnnncient, auto-wallah sitting in an auto that was a mini-temple replete with photos of Hanuman and Ganesha and metal, pseudo-doors on the side so that people do not fall off the rick when it speeds(!). All that was missing was a bullet-proof windshield, me thinks! As I got in, Sardar-ji waved bye. How sweet was that...? PS: No, he did not give me his phone number and ask me to 'ghar pahunchke missed call de dijiye'!!!
4. I have heard many, many people complain about why and how the civic authorities allow old men to drive cabs. I, for one, have been guilty on this count too. But, this changed a bit when I met Cabbie 5- a spunky, 70-year old who gave a damn about the dud(e)s who tried to overtake him on their Pulsars and the bus-drivers who attempted to honk him out of the left lane. Cabbie Grampy apparently has been left to fend for himself by his sons. In stead of wallowing in self-pity, he decided to do what he did best and what he enjoyed most- DRIVE. The fact that his job lets him earn some dough is good news for this old man. But, in his words (as translated by yours truly),"Driving a cab helps me realize that I am able to take care of myself and my passengers. Yes, the money helps. But, at my age it feels good that I have a purpose to my day!" 'Respect'- is the only word I have to say to this man!
5. Cabbie 6 is a busy man! A rich, busy man! As I sat in his cab and made my way to Worli, I must have wondered a million times why I needed an MBA to make me some money. As we cruised along the 'world-famous in India' Bandra-Worli Sea-Link, he asks me, "Beta, how much do you think these apartments on Worli Sea Face cost?" and I mumble, "X crores...maybe more...but not less." He goes,"Hmmmm....I see. Looks difficult right now, but God-willing I might be able to make an investment here." At this, I pushed my eye-balls back into their sockets and sat up straight. "WHATTTT?'- that's me. And he goes, "Yes. Investment, you know. My brother and I do this to earn some extra money in the city- we buy property, sell it, buy another property with the money, sell it again at a profit, earn interest, blah blah blah. I also own a printing press and I rent out a godown to a pharma giant. Investment is very important, beta." "Then, why the hell do you drive a cab? Shouldn't you, like, be counting your wad of cash." Pat comes the reply, "Pocket-money, beta." What to do? We are like this only!After all this, I guess I am definitely going to see the next cabbie in a new light. Entrepreneurial, spirited, gritty, determined and not afraid to chase their dreams...they have a little bit of Bombay in them, don't they?!
