The Auto Rickshaw tales

Autorickshaws are to commuters in developing countries what cabs are to those in the developed countries. At first, they resemble tiny insects trying not to get squished under the large ungainly tyres of other co habitants of Indian roads but beware, do not get fooled by their harmless demeanor. More often than not these bright coloured seemingly innocent three wheeled capsules are operated by greasy haired, roguish Autorickshaw Waale Bhaiyyas who have the ability to ruffle the calmest of feathers. In the past 7 years, especially after me and my beloved Scooty parted ways, I have had the misfortune of availing the services of these strange characters to drive me around the city. There are several categories in which these people can be profiled. Here is an ode to some of my favourite ones  :)

1) The one with the verbal diarrhoea: I would like to confess at this point that I am absolutely not a morning person. In fact I usually try to fight the morning blues by keeping quiet and steering clear of potentially explosive encounters which can bring out the worst in me. So, one typical Monday morning (morning blues accentuated manifold by virtue of the fact that it was a Monday), I scrambled into an ordinary looking autorickshaw driven by a chubby overgrown child like bhaiyya. As soon as the three wheeled contraption whirred to life, the aforementioned man-child fired a volley of questions at me:  "Madam, kaun sa raaste se chalne ka? Left'aa'? Straight'aa'? Aajkal baut baut traffic aane laga hai ma?"…he driveled on in broken Hindi as I felt myself being sucked into a vortex of question marks. I stuck to monosyllabic answers in a desperate attempt to dissuade him from further verbal assault but did my ploy work? No sir, my Auto waale Bhaiyya was determined to use me as a piece of sandpaper to polish the rough edges of his Hindi language.By the time I reached my destination, my head was spinning. Viva exams from my engineering days weren't half as grueling as the past one hour in the autorickshaw from hell. Ever since that fateful day, I say a silent prayer each time I get into an autorickshaw, hoping that I do not have a similar experience again.

2) Schumacher ke bhatije: Now these are the weirdest of all specimen. They like to believe that their green and yellow toy vehicles are just as good or perhaps even better than the Ferraris and Jaguars driven by the likes of Michael Schumacher. They fly over speed breakers, zip through potholes and swerve between lanes to avoid traffic with the dexterity of a cheetah. As the unsuspecting passenger is flung mercilessly from one corner to the other the Auto waale Bhaiyya  races towards an invisible finish line. Maybe it isn't a race, maybe the Auto waale Bhaiyya  has bad memories of a swarm of angry bees chasing him and he just cannot get over the trauma. Whatever be the reason, at the end of the day, yet another poor commuter is left with a mutilated back bone and a fit of nausea.

3) The one with the Tsunami in his mouth: Of all the repugnant people on earth, this one is the worst. The road, to him is a giant wash basin in which he constantly spits. One might wonder from where he gets this unsual quantity of spit in his mouth. I personally believe that it is a disease which causes Tsunami like waves of spit to burst out of the patient's mouth at regular intervals. Much to the horror of the passengers, who may conclude that the poor Auto waale Bhaiyya has tuberculosis or some other ghastly disease, he continues to cough and spit violently while somehow managing to steer the auto rickshaw through traffic. Made popular by Leo di Caprio as Jack in Titanic, spitting while emanating a sharp guttural noise has taken the fancy of many Auto waale Bhaiyyas . I wonder if they also believe that it would help them bag a voluptuous Kate Winslet a.k.a Rose look alike. After several encounters with this variety, my self defence mechanism now includes an ipod and a set of headphones which not only safeguards me from them but also from their 'verbal diarrhoea' cousins.

4) The ugly one: Just when you are about to conclude that all Auto waale Bhaiyyas fall in one of the above three categories only, the most vicious fourth category attacks. Step aside for the expletive spouting devil who exudes a repulsive arrogance and reeks of greed. The first question he asks you when you hail his auto is where exactly do you want to go. If where you want to go is not where he wants to go, he will give you such a dirty look that you would want to evaporate into thin air. In the rare circumstance that he agrees to take you to your destination, he will proceed to run some complex arithmetic in his head which would result in him quoting a ridiculously high fare. Incidentally this figure has nothing to do with the black fare meter installed inside or the actual distance between the start point and the end point. Try haggling only if you are thick skinned enough to stand resolutely as a tide of abuses washes over you. Also, never ever expect him to return the 5/4/3/2 rupee change that he owes you. If you do, he will give you a mean smirk and ride away leaving you standing on the road, palm stretched out, feeling like a beggar. While dealing with this variety, fortify yourself with Glucon D and take deep breaths to keep yourself focused else you might lose the battle. The I-know-the-ACP-so-you-better-get-your-act-together bit usually works wonders with them. However, I do hope that this variety is soon extinct.

5) And finally the good one…I never thought that I would have an opportunity to come face to face with a specimen from this variety but lo and behold just like a specter he appeared in front of me one fine day. His fare meter was perfect, the passenger seat was not broken and I did not have to worry about sliding off each time the auto rickshaw went over a speed breaker, he spoke little but whenever he did he was polite and last but not the least he was perhaps the most well behaved and immaculately dressed Auto waale Bhaiyya  I had ever met. That day there was no blaring music hurting my ears, no hurling on the road and no broken bones after the ride. There wasn't even a photoshopped Karishma/Aishwarya/Sushmita, bearing leech like eyebrows, staring at me from a poster taped to the interior of the auto. This was an auto rickshaw straight from Paradise. Had I died and gone to heaven? When I received the exact change for the 100 rupee note I gave, I couldn't contain myself and blurted out, "Bhaiyya, this has been the best auto ride I have ever had.  Thank you ! ". He beamed at me and rode off into the horizon in search of yet another lucky passenger.