Trust Chennai to come up with new concepts. Now there are these ‘share autos’, for the common person. Sharing is good for the environment and it does work out way cheaper than an autorickshaw while being classier than the ubiquitous Metropolitan Transport Corporation bus. But the ‘share autos’ do come with their own set of travails.
Hailing one is an experience in itself and you need to pick and choose. The older ones are engineering marvels.
Seemingly re-engineered from discarded parts of non-functioning regular autos and furnished in eclectic styles that suit their owners, it is a wonder that they ply. Successfully getting into zne of these and squeezing oneself into a seat will prove that your body manoeuvrability quotient is high. If you manage to get stuck in the last row, it is guaranteed to shrink your leg size by an inch for every hour of travel.
The newer among the contraptions are better in terms of leg space. But in these you get jostled around, and nowhere can you hold on for dear life when the driver seemingly practises his crash-driving skills.
Once inside, you are transported to olfactory hell. Gas fumes, food smells, day- (or week-) old unwashed clothes, the summery stink, last week’s dried flowers... Beg the almighty to save your poor nose, and ensure your last meal does not come out.
The ‘share auto’ transports a multitude of passengers — from the daily-wage labourer to the IT worker. And now comes the best part. Each of them has a mobile phone! You can choose your choice of free entertainment — the driver’s choice of FM radio, the newly married man’s fight with his wife, a love-bird who talks into the phone so no one else can hear but is not very successful, the dinner menu in aunty’s house, the account number of the uncle travelling abroad tomorrow, et al. Traffic jams are the pits… horns blare, and petrol fumes attempt to suffocate you!
The ‘share auto’ driver is a law unto himself. He tries his best to remind you during every ride that he once drove trucks for a living. And never once does he take his hands off the horn. His way to the right of road. He will insist on rushing along the road unmindful of how many pitfalls it may have. He will abuse the poor lady or old gentleman who doesn’t have the exact change for the fare.
But he will beg and beseech the policeman who rounds him up. He will wait at the signal to fill up his vehicle with passengers unmindful of your stares and worried glances at your watch. He will stop at any place, anytime… unmindful of the car behind that just manages not to ram into him. He will try to run a minimum of 10 two-wheelers off the road every day. After all, it spells his macho driving skills.
The ‘share autos’ are mostly unregulated and apparently thrive on the welloiled generosities of the traffic policeman. To make up for this loss, the driver fleeces you. There are some fixed rates agreed upon by the ‘share auto’ associations, but very few honest drivers quote them. Each one tries to extract five or ten rupees extra from unsuspecting passengers and could hurl abuses when you dare to protest.
All this notwithstanding, ‘share autos’ represent a cheap, omnipresent transport option for the common person. And once you come out of your first ride alive, you would have learnt to live with all this. After all, they are the common person’s transport option!
