Saga of drivers across the world!

We are spoilt lot! Specially the middle class in India; we are not rich, but we have the comfort of a paramilitary army of helpers! We have the maids, the nannies, the drivers, the milkman, the newspaper boy, the gardener…. The list goes on. I would not have appreciated them if I had not gone abroad for a couple of years and learnt how difficult it was to get house help, leave alone the expenses involved.

Years back when the children were very young, we were privileged to have a life with a company provided car and driver, from then on till now the drivers have played an important part in my learning-about-life process.

The first time we had a non-Indian driver was when we were in Egypt. They are astoundingly different from ours. Other than being excellent drivers- manoeuvring the huge cars in small spaces and going through choc-a-bloc traffic like a hot knife in butter, they were a part of the family. They looked after our children like they were their own. They bargained for us at the vegetable market as if they were saving their own money. They cared for us when we were ill and celebrated our joy with the same enthusiasm that we did. I always forgot that they were from a different religion and  had different rituals!

How were they different from our erstwhile drivers? Except for a couple of drivers (We went through at least ten in ten years), specially the Mumbai ones, the drivers we have had were always out to swindle us; it could be overtime, or telling that the traffic police had caught them, or demanding holidays (we Indians have thirteen festivals in twelve months!). the question of them caring for us or vice-versa was almost next to nil. There was always a wall of suspicion between us!

The next type was the European one. We had a driver to take us through Italy and its beautiful countryside. He was of course different from either the Indians or the Egyptians. Extremely elegant, he was like an exalted guide; educated, articulate and informative. He neither gave us any information about himself nor asked us for any. Never did he follow us when we went sightseeing or advise us where to eat or what to buy. In the car however, he was a part of our family; friendly and humorous. But he had his lines which neither he nor we crossed!

Recently we had the opportunity of experiencing another set of drivers in the heavenly kingdom of Bhutan. The driver who was with us throughout the day was also our unofficial guide. He advised us about meals, regaled us with stories of this land of Buddha and took care of us in every possible way. Welcomed us with a smile (however early it was) and bade goodnight with the same smile (however late it might have been). He drove us to the base of the Tiger’s nest and climbed all the way up (believe me it is a torturous climb!) and came down insisting on carrying our backpack and then drove us back to the hotel! He knew I was in pain and never missed a chance to enquire about my wellbeing! By the time we left we were friends. What I realised was, they were not too well off in terms of money, but they were always filled with happiness; they were satisfied with their lives and grateful for what destiny had given them.  

Even the Taxi drivers had a smile on their face when they ferry you unlike the Uber drivers in the USA who think they are much superior to you!

We took a small break in Guwahati before braving the noise and crowd of Mumbai, here fortunately we had a good driver but being Indian they have their own barricades.

Landing in Mumbai, it was a cultural shock to be harassed by the Uber drivers! They neither have a smile nor an apology when they are late. In fact they will state their delay in such a way that you feel guilty that you asked them for a ride!

Could be the stress and pressure they go through make them this way (I am trying to empathise!) However it would be wonderful if they could learn that being happy in spite of adversity is not a crime; that a smile does not cost them a penny; responding to a thank you with a “Welcome” rather than grunt would not hurt either.

Believe me they earn triple the amount that a Bhutanese or an Egyptian driver does! Can you blame us for not having a full time driver in Mumbai?

Status-“Pending Verification”

I remember my twenty first birthday vaguely. A couple of my friends had a small celebration of my coming of age. It was no big deal; I still think adulthood is a lot of hogwash! Other than bringing with it burden and pain, it stresses that you are now responsible for yourself. Of course we Indians as compared to the rest of the world are a spoilt lot. Our parents continue to take care of us till we are either married or working, whatever the age of the child- I could be thirty five, but because I am unmarried, I live with my parents!

Going back to my twenty first, I remember we discussed a lot about being able to vote. Most of my friends and I came from families who moved every three years, it was the norm rather than a novelty. There was no Aadhar card (UID Card) so we never had any ID with a permanent address. The privileged few who had a passport those days were really not bothered about voting. To be honest -as my Face Book page will inform all-, I was apolitical. I had this idea that politics was meant for uneducated and corrupt people of the country. Only criminals and goons played in the political arena . I admit I was wrong! But at that age your attitude is “I am RIGHT about everything”.  If I cast my mind back, what resurfaces is I loved taking all the privileges that I had and ignored the ones that I did not. Its better to walk on clean roads rather than clean the sewers that run underneath them was my motto!

Well, the sewers got murkier! All the dust was swept under the carpet of governance. Like many of my contemporaries, I continued to grumble about the state of affairs. It was in fact a good conversation piece like “the weather”, at parties and get togethers. Fortunately we are in a democratic country where we have the freedom of speech. I must be honest here that many and not all were like me. We had a host of student leaders who tried to bring in changes (debatable whether they were good and positive!) But in their own way they tried, that is more than can be said of me!

I did move out of parents house soon after and started my own family. But I continued to be a nomad. This trickled down to the fact that I did have proof of my permanent address but unfortunately, I was never there when the elections were held. I have to confess now that I have never voted in my life. Once or twice I tried enrolling in the voters list of the then residential place, but the ‘red tape’ was so tortuous that I would give up mid-way!

Life went on; busy life if I may say so! Managing a house, bringing up children, handling the work front, indulging in hobbies socializing… the list is endless. I never really missed not voting. What could any government do that would change my life? The corruption would continue, so would the fleecing of the common people and violence and murder would be meted out to any protestor who dared to question the atrocities! I wanted to be safe , I wanted my family to be safe, so I stayed as far away as possible from any kind of politics.

Maybe it was a biological or chemical change within me- as I approached mid life- I sat up and took stock of myself. From a very jaundiced outlook (I was at the same time diagnosed with a liver disorder!) I grew up to a pacifist frame of mind. I am a fatalist by nature, but I started questioning my beliefs and faith. From a “Know all” I progressed to “All I know”. With the internet boom I realised the limitations of my knowledge. I had always been a voracious reader, the internet made me learn so many new things; you would think I had become wiser than ever before! Yes, I was older, but was I wiser? was a question I would rather avoid answering.

But the General Elections were looming large. I decided I would ink my fingers for the first time in my life. The newspaper and all media sources were filled with easy ways of enrolling yourself as a voter. I had the time and inclination; there was still three months to go before the Elections. I went online, uploaded my photograph and my husband's too. It took me a whole day to upload all the documents that were needed, onto the website. I felt satisfied and happy that I had done my bit. Now was the waiting period, when they would be verified. I knew it would take time, so I forgot about it for a month (I am a time freak! So you must understand how hard this was for me!)

After a month I checked  the website– the bubble now moved from “documents accepted” to “awaiting verification”. The status remained the same for the next month or so. When April began (the cruellest month according to T.S.Eliot!) I checked again. My status was status quo, but my husband’s status had changed to “rejected”! When I checked further it said that the problem was with his photograph, they also said that they had tried to contact him but had not been able to! I am at home every day, when did anyone come to check anything is the question! And what about me? Why is my status still “Pending Verification”?

The elections have begun, I have no hope that I shall ink my fingers in this one either. For the first time in my life I was trying to be proactive- to bring about a change but whether it was fate or the manipulative government (people say that all our chats and internet data are spied upon!)that has effectively barred me from exercising my right. But I hope my right to speech is not infringed upon and I shall continue to protest through my missiles (after all the pen can be mightier than the sword!)

The dance of Democracy continues to be performed by a bunch of monkeys and donkeys and the so called “intellectuals” sit back and watch the antics!

Autos, shopping and birthday discounts!

I decided not to take the car- it’s a pain when you are stuck in a traffic jam with San Francisco type of steep roads! I did not take the Uber either as it is double the price of the ever present Auto on Mumbai roads. I mean you just walk out of your apartment and there is someone to take you wherever you want to, as against booking an Uber on your App, then waiting for the driver to come and then paying for your last trip (I invariably forget to pay it immediately!).

 

So here I was sitting in the yellow and black tuk-tuk waiting for the traffic to move. I thanked God for not having taken the car! Only a Mumbaikar can understand what it is to be stuck in a traffic jam on a narrow steep road! The sun was beating down mercilessly on me, so I shifted to the middle of my seat. The school bus and the BEST bus were both trying to inch their way to the left of the road and the trail of Autos were snaking in and out like a rat amongst an Elephant herd- irritating but unavoidable!

After a minor surgery which had made me home-bound for two weeks, I was going out on a solo window shopping “shall pick up if I like something” kind of trip. The big boss was out on a conference and the children were living their own lives. I got a lot of “Have Fun” stickers from all three when I woke up in the morning! I knew I was going to beat my goal of ten thousand steps that day, so I dutifully did my stretching exercise before I started out on my adventure.

There is a lot of construction going on for the metro so after braving the elements on the very steep road, we were stuck again at another traffic jam.

 I admire the  new age Auto drivers! Most of them have their cell phones fixed on the steering wheel a la Uber drivers and they have earphones through which they are either listening to music or watching something on their phones. Most of them are not overweight (as were their erstwhile predecessors) and many, if not all, have some kind of uniform (Totally white or totally Khaki). But like their predecessors they have one leg tucked under them and the other foot is also bare; their sandals kept neatly by their side.

Making a living out of the noisy polluted life lines of the city without losing their cool is admirable! They have the patience to inch their way into gaps; they have the courage to go “where no man has gone before” and the talent to pass by huge buses within millimetres of getting crushed between two big ones! Very few lose their cool and they have a good word as they pass by their colleagues on the road. But they judge their passengers too. I have seen them take out two rupees and give it the poorer people, but they are always without change when they need to return anything to me! Its ok, they charge me half the price of an Uber so two rupees is okay.

I spent four hours at the Mall. The air conditioned precinct was a pleasure after being on the road for an hour, that too for a distance of less than four kilometres. I would have reached faster had I walked!

I had fun; trying out outlandish clothes; browsing all kinds of accessories; looking longingly at the slim mannequins with their bizarre but stylish dresses. I had the money but not the figure to carry them off! I thought I was being clever- buying only what I would wear (I almost picked up inappropriate clothes, but good sense prevailed, and I left them at the billing counter!) After doing the rounds of the designer clothing stores (I picked up quite a few bargains!), I decided to break for lunch (already seven thousand steps done!).

Guilty indulgence of coffee with burger and fries (Had decided to skip dinner anyway- so forgivable!) I tightened my girdle and started on the last leg of my adventure. Till now I had avoided the pitfall of being seduced at the offer of twenty percent off because its my birthday month!( Every store offers you a loyalty card and as this is my favourite hunting ground, everyone knows my birthday month!) With a full stomach, and no time or budget limit I entered the last of my arena. I did get a couple of things, but it added up to a measly two thousand rupees so not much of a discount. I decide I would not claim it but then I realised that to claim it I would have to shop again within that month, so catch twenty two situation. 

While I was dithering, I had come to the top of the line and the billing chap immediately said,“Ma’am this is your birthday month, why don’t you pick up something else? You will get flat twenty percent off.”

I confess to the whole wide world that at that moment my defences were down. I have another secret guilty pleasure- I love buying bed sheets and the store has a great collection (two of my cupboards are filled with bedsheets in the house!) the pleasure of sleeping on a crisp and clean bed linen is to die for (if I had the energy, I would change my sheets every day)

About turn and I spent a pleasurable fifteen minutes amongst the bedsheets and got my birthday discount.

I made three people happy- myself, the billing guy and much later the auto guy whom I tipped seven rupees as he did not have change and I was laden with the spoils of  the battle.