Musings- II

Copied from http://pee-tale.blogspot.com/( my other blog ) for convenience.

When the 'P' got expensive

I have always maintained that the auto-drivers in Mumbai are one of the best conversationalists in the city. In this damned city where a friendly nod or hello is as scarce as the paneer in the paneer tikka masala of a Government Hostel Mess, these auto-drivers can really alleviate the mood with their run-of-the-mill day to day experiences. He may come from various parts of the country- from within the state or 'outside' ( as some may quote ) ;but there are some typical traits to his personality.With the left leg folded ,the non-stop ruminating of paan and a shirt too hot to be buttoned fully; the knack of how he drives the ancient and cacophonous 3-wheeler vehicle (FYI:They run on a motorcycle engine) with utmost harmony is a mystery !

This monday evening,I came across such a specimen on my ride back home from a friend's. The secret of starting a conversation with such people is to smile as soon as you get in. The first thing he asked me was if I was an engineer. I am not sure if my nerdy spectacles or my bulky bag gave him the hint, actually, to think of it every third person in India is an engineer, so I blame it wholly on demography ! He started to enquire about the latest mobile phones in the market. I told him about a few features he should look for while buying a new phone. He smiled back. Then came out the true story..

Apparently on Sunday morning, he, his 'aurat' and his mother were sitting outside this jewellery store. Sunday being the weekly holiday, he didn't have much work to do and was busy playing with his 5 year old son outside the closed jewellery store . Out of the blue, the store owner and his son came to check on something inside the store. After a few minutes, the owner came out and started peeing on the wall few meters away from the store. The autorickshaw driver's son was playing quite close by and this irked his father. The driver stood up and started screaming at the owner but the owner quietly relieved himself to glory ! He told me that the store had a separate bathroom and toilet inside and the owner acted in such a way just to drive them out of that place.The driver and his family stayed in a shanty near to the store and in the scorching heat, the shanty would get hot enough to cook a tandoori and so they preferred to sit outside.The cool uncaring temperament of the owner piss-ed the driver even more. Unable to handle the insult infront of his family, he started punching the owner. In between the volley of fists, the driver thrust his phone to his son. The son taking this as a signal from his father threw the phone, aiming at the owner's head. Amazingly, the throw hit its target and the victim went grunting back to the store, cursing all the way. The driver said that he had never been more proud of his son. There was a very big smile on his face.

He did not care that his phone broke into a million pieces.
He did not care that it would cost him another 2-3K to buy a new phone.
He did not care that he would have to work overtime for a few weeks to makeup for the loss.
All he cared was that he was proud of his son's 'heroic' stunt which he said made his chest swell up with satisfaction

At the end of the tale reciting it was time for me to say something. I was torn between justifying the store owner's act and driver's take on ethics. The store owner was in a way right in his point that such pavement encroachers were indeed a public nuisance and with the instances of vandalism on a rise, it becomes difficult to trust random people. However his unsanitory uncouth behaviour was not acceptable. On the other hand, the driver's helpless condition is also understandable.

By God's grace, before I could say anything we reached my building and I hopped out of the autorickshaw and paid him off. I told him a few more things about mobile phones and thanked him for the ride. He smiled.

When I walked till my door all I could think was, all said and done, the pee got very expensive for the poor autorickshaw driver. :-P

 

Musings-I

Oh Darn !

Word of Caution:  For all those who thought this blog would be yet another bickering about the present political chaos in the country or how the left should slap the right, then I am sorry to inform you that the 'x' on the top right corner is the best place to go. This blog is also not some abstract which will require you to warp yourself to a whole new time dimension to understand. I write solely to tell you about the experiences that I face in my journey through life.

This story deals with my encounter with a particular devious taxi driver. It so seems that I have developed rather a knack with the Mumbai public transport system! This story has 3 characters- Mr. Romeo, Mr. Goatee and me (original names changed for no apparent purpose). The episode starts with our Romeo wanting to surprise his girl at the airport (with all melodrama) - hence the name. She was to return to Mumbai after a 15 day trip to the south-east. So Romeo suddenly realises that he has to see her after this long gap and decides to meet her at the airport that night in his new car; Goatee and me tag along. For sweet love!

After the love birds met, our Romeo was in high spirits (strictly emotional) because Juliet liked this unexpected encounter and the bounty of love for this crazy dude expanded even further. On our way back we were caught up in a choke-a-block traffic jam just outside a very famous hotel. We were stranded on one side of the road with cars lined up till the naked eye could see. It began to drizzle. In this awesome weather the three of us sat in the car smiling like idiots, reminiscing in our own thoughts;

Romeo thinking about the split second that he got to see Juliet,

Goatee lost in his thoughts on a new hairstyle to suit his goatee and

Me pondering over my existence on this planet.

Ssscccccreeeeeeecccchhhhhh !!!!

Then we heard this horrible grotesque sound, much like a drunk cat singing the tunes of a very nasal singer. Before we analysed what had happened we saw a very ancient taxi bobbing to and fro in front of us with a huge piece of metallic junk towed at the back. I got out of the car to check the damage and to my shock the car was entirely naked below the bonnet at the front. It was not junk behind the taxi, it was our car’s bumper! What the...!

Flashback: Where there is a will, there is a way. Where there is Rajinikanth, there is no stopping his way. As if to prove this point, the driver who was some 20 feet behind us, turned his taxi and jumped over the pavement and drove along with ‘dhoom machale’ blasting on his radio. When he came close to our car he had to dodge a bench on the pavement, and in this pursuit he nudged our vehicle and his back bumper got jammed into our front bumper and then began the sweet sounds of melancholy.

I got out of the car, sleeves rolled up, all ready to confront the stuntman, half afraid that the driver might be some long lost cousin of Dara Singh. To my wonderment out came a tiny little figure which boosted my confidence significantly. I cornered him and started with my ranting, all my frustration focused and ready for deployment. I looked back for support. There lay my Romeo- on his knees, hands on his head, half scared of a big black dog licking his foot and half scared imagining what his father might look like when he sees the car which now looked like an old man without dentures; and then there was goatee- still in the car, undisturbed and serene, calmly continuing his analysis on his new hairdo.

The taxi driver played the blame game initially but as his chances got slimmer tried to use the much acclaimed ‘garib hoon bhaisahab, 3 bacche hai mere, maaf kar do’ card. But I remained undeterred in my mission to vent. Out of the blue came a cool cab driver to the stuntman’s rescue. He tried to calm the situation with his practical advice and succeeded in convincing me as well (actually because no one else needed convincing; my two mates had lost hope long back.) Now Romeo could now be seen with his head on Goatee’s shoulders, Goatee, mind you, is still tripping over his hairstyle.

By now the traffic started to move as well. We decided that it was best in everyone’s interest that we search for a mechanic and get the thing fixed right away! The cool-cab driver happened to have expertise in this area as well and had apparent ‘contacts’ nearby. So I unhooked the bumper from the taxi and called out to my friends. Those few moments were enough for the taxi driver to sit in the car and bolt off in style. The cool cab driver ran off as well.

So I stood there with this very heavy bumper in my hand covered with muck. A lot of things came to my mind as I saw the taxi zoom and zigzag its way out of there, but at that moment all I could say was,

“Oh Darn!”