Driving my own car was a real pleasure. The vehicle became a friend over time, and I felt safe and happy to be within it, with soft music playing. However, as the congestion on the roads increases by the day or sometimes it seems by the hour, the best option, at least for a senior person, seemed to be to give up driving and go with the flow of available public transport.
One could order a taxi, walk across to a waiting bus or take a three-wheeler, commonly called a ‘scooty’ or ‘auto’. It seemed a scary idea to begin with but as my experiences grew, I got rather fond of them and enjoyed my short trips.
My family was dead against my ‘risking my life’ by taking an ‘autorickshaw ride’. Everyone said the drivers overcharge, don’t switch on their meters and even refuse to go in certain directions.
One day I stood by the roadside and hailed down one of them:
“Where do you want to go?”
I told him.
“Seventy Rupees”.
“No”, I said, “switch on your meter and I will be happy to pay whatever it shows.”
So, the trip started. I was happy to reach my destination for Rs. 40, and best of all, not to be cheated.
Since my pick-up place and destination were the same, I found it convenient and comfortable to take an autorickshaw-ride every day. The general impression about them cheating and overcharging persists, but it has been proven to me over time that ‘there are always two sides to a story’, and that no opinion should be formed without knowing both sides.
So I decided to interview some of them while taking my short rides. Knowing their side of the story was an eye-opener and very interesting.
I was shocked to hear from most of them how people cheated them. They said some people hire them for long-distance journeys and say “just wait here I’ll come back in five minutes”. One driver said he waited for almost an hour but the passenger never came back.
Another told me how a person told him “give me 450 change and I’ll just give you Rs. 500, as I don’t have change.” He pretended to go into what the poor driver thought was his house and never came back. When he tried to ask the people living next door, they said no one like that lived there.
Another driver told me he saw an injured lady lying on the road, bleeding. He put her in his autorickshaw and took her to a hospital nearby. They admitted her but told him he can only leave when the lady regains consciousness and confirmed to them that he was not the one who hit her. So the poor guy waited for hours and was only allowed to leave when she regained consciousness and assured them that her husband was responsible for her condition and that this kind fellow had done her a great favour by bringing her to the hospital.
Another driver told me how a passenger had left his cell phone on the back seat and got down. He only noticed it when the phone rang. It was the owner calling. He requested him to deliver the phone at his home. Though it was some distance away, he went to give it back. He said the fellow offered him Rs. 500. He said he told him, “Sir, 200 is enough, it will cover the cost of my going and coming”, but the guy insisted and said: “Do you know this phone is worth 30,000? So just take it.”
Slowly the auto-rides became a matter of joy. Amazingly, sometimes the drivers even shared personal stuff: “Ma’am, I have two small children and I am educating them but I can’t help them with their studies or homework.”
Now I teach street children and love it because I discovered that they are intelligent and some have artistic talents like painting, singing and dancing. But the sad part is that no one in their families can help or encourage them to develop their talents. So I could understand his anguish.
Coincidentally, I recently visited a non-governmental organisation that works with children from poor backgrounds who come there after school, are fed milk and bananas and have volunteer teachers helping them with their homework and create an interest in their minds to pursue their studies and develop their artistic talents. So I gave this autorickshaw driver the address, since he lived close to the place and could send his children there.
I find it easy and comfortable to talk to them and they so graciously thank me when I get down. Many of them say, “Ma’am no one talks to us so gently, I am very fortunate to have met someone like you. Wish there were more people like you.”
Recently a young driver folded his hands and said, “Ma’am, I live close by. If you ever need me, please don’t hesitate to call. My name is…. And this is my cell number.”
I pray that my faith in the innate goodness of humanity is never shaken or broken, so I can help when anyone needs it and continue to enjoy my rides.
ranidevasar@gmail.com
