Yellow
I was caught in the midst of a usual monsoon downpour in Mumbai... There were a million autos to choose from, all stranded in traffic right outside my office. I waited under the shed with the guards, carefully homed in on one of the rickshaws and then made a crazy dash for it. Well I did make it into the wretched thing in less than four seconds but I was completely soaked nevertheless.
Juhu Tara Road ...
90 lagega boss!
Kyo? Meter??
Nahin boss...
Saala tum Bombay wale bhi poorey chor ho - aisey hin log boltey hain ki Bombay ke auto wale imandaari se kaam karte hain...
Toh utar jao na...
Theek hai!
Hmm but it was raining so hard that I swallowed my pride and remained where I was - then I pretended to be on the phone. It wasn't the 90 bucks - it was irritating how he refused...
Anyway after my fake call - I engrossed myself with the chaos that is Bombay. Rain is such an integral part of the city. In Delhi when it rains people huddle under flyovers and bus stops - here life goes on. If its only a faint drizzle you'll probably even see someone read a newspaper in the rain or sip on tea or something.
Chori nahin karte hain hum boss. Majboori hai...
He was looking at me through the rear-view mirror. I felt a little nice - my jibe had probably unsettled him, I guess no one likes to be told, in a nice way, like you care or something, that they are cheating. No its not that - to be told that they cheat when you really really mean it in a genuine manner but not really yell at them or anything, just make an observation. We all like to believe we live honest lives.
I didn't talk about it much though, just said it was alright. A little later when we got further tangled in traffic, he began to speak. All Mumbai auto/taxi drivers can be grouped according to the actor/actresses they claim sat in their vehicle. Mine had a rendezvous with Jackie Shroff (eeks). He was apparently very nice to him and gave him his address and even now keeps in touch. I think Mumbai does that - makes all its inhabitants dreamy. Its a nice thing if you think of it.. Of course this information was passed on to me only after Girish (ya, I remember, clearly) took me through a thorough interview. But he was likable, and I obliged with accurate data.
We were still only one corner ahead of my office and Girish and me knew almost all there is to know about a stranger. Our conversation then moved to how he felt that the Bombay rains other than the two days in 2005 haven't suddenly become heavier. He said that it rained like this every year, except now the whole nation had gotten involved and the media was disappointed if the rains aren't exceptional and if a few people didn't die. At the next signal I offered him a smoke - we were buddies!
He had two daughters. Both were in school, he wanted to educate them and send them to college. He was from UP - but had settled here for good. He didn't seem to like his family back home - he thought they were petty and ignorant. He wanted to, at some point, start his own business - his plan was to be the one renting out cars for movie shoots. It was his dream job, Bombay does this to people I tell you... Girish and me then made general comments on things like poverty, good and evil, politicians, Taxi Vs Auto, Bombay Vs Rest of India, cricket, media, I even asked him to tell me the best places to eat in Bombay (Bade Mian)...
Somewhere in all this chatter we got back to the issue of the higher tariff. He said he knew he was charging more, but he was desperate. He owed somebody 3000 rupees and that he'd lose his auto if he didnt pay up by next week.
Garib aadmi kya karega? Humara sau-pachaas bahut kharab hota hai - baaki lakho rupiah kha jaate hain aur koi kuch nahin kehta...
When someone says something and they believe in it, like really believe in it - you cannot help it.. Also Girish in general came across as genuine. Hmm I said it was true but that doesn't mean one should give up on being nice and leading an honest decent life. He agreed in return, but said that the auto was everything to him and his family and he was couldn't help it. Well both of us didn't speak for a while, I was engulfed with some amount of sadness as well. I returned to staring at Bombay being lashed by the usual monsoon shower.
Girish broke the silence through his prediction of the fate of the latest Bollywood pot boiler. With a sense of relief, I entered into a masala laden conversation on Bollywood. We discussed box office collections, old movies and new, the prettiest women and even some gossip. Of course we revisited Jackie Shroff...
After a bit I told him I was in Bombay for my internship. If they liked my work they'd give me a permanent job. Girish thought it was strange - this whole business of internships. He felt one should be hired once and for all. Nervously he asked me how much I earned - I told him 12,500 was what was paid to me as stipend (the truth). Somehow I felt he wouldn't understand so I added with haste that my stay and meals were paid for and that the permanent job came with a much lavish salary. I don't understand why I did that but I didn't want him to think I wasn't getting much by way of money.
Girish was quiet for a while - then he said that he was very happy that I was earning so much at such an early age and that my parents must be proud of me. It really kills you when a grown up man says such things - he said he couldn't dream of earning so much ever. It was only the difference of the families that we were born in that made me sit where I was sitting and Girish the auto-driver. It was really awful. Once again we sank into silence.
I was looking now at a local train running parallel to the road. A ride on one of those was on top of my to-do list while in Bombay. Last Sunday I took a ticket to VT, when the train pulled in I saw a few coaches packed to such an extent it seemed they would burst and then others which were completely empty. I made the obvious decision and sat inside an almost empty coach. Apparently if you are caught in first-class on a second-class ticket you have to pay some five hundred rupees as fine.
It was my turn to break the uncomfortable silence. I offered to pay Girish the 3000 rupees he needed. I don't know why I did it, but I just did. It was the first money I had earned, and back home my parents would ask me to give some to a temple and to send some to my ancestral village. I thought there was more practical good in giving the money to Girish. We were almost outside my hotel and I gave Girish my phone no. and told him to give me a call the day after tomorrow (I was going to Pune that evening), I said I'd give him he money then.
******
Girish called me while I was returning from Pune - I had forgotten all about him and that strange afternoon. But I noticed from his voice that he hadn't, it was almost as if he was calling me from that afternoon, as if he was still in that day. I know I must have been in his thoughts ever since, he might have told everybody about me, maybe from now on, he'll mention me rather than Jackie Shroff to interested customers. But I hadn't thought of him at all... I asked him to call me in a few hours, when I'd be in Bombay. Suddenly now, the thought of parting with all that money didn't offer any philanthropic kicks. I had had a nice time in Pune and it had cost quite a bit.
My mind tried to go back to Girish. Had he planned it out? I couldn't decide whether when I offered my help he resisted or not. Unconsciously but rigorously I kept trying to remember something that would help build a case against Girish. By the time I got to Bombay (it was still pouring) deep down inside of me I had made up my mind - I wasn't going to give Girish the money. I don't even recollect feeling very very horrible about it, my chief concern was how to get him to not call me and also I was worried since he had seen the hotel where I got off.
I thought of Girish a lot in the next few days - the whole incident made me ask myself whether I was essentially a nice person like I thought or not. I knew it wasn't too far fetched a possibility that Girish was lying, but that was not enough to stop me from feeling guilty. I thought of Girish's daughters and what would become of Girish's plans of sending them to college if his auto was actually seized. I don't exactly remember how I felt, but it couldn't have been a great feeling. Girish's phone calls followed me across the country as I traveled on account of my internship, to Baroda, Varanasi, Hyderabad, Ahmedabad... He called me Nikhil Bhai...
Nikhil Bhai kam se kam phone toh utha lo - Girish
Then one day about a fortnight after that afternoon with Girish, I was on my way to office. I won't say he had tormented me ever since (every morning outside my office or the hotel I half expected him to be lurking somewhere with a knife, waiting to stab me) but I still thought of him every now and then. It was raining as usual. I ended a conversation with someone on the phone as the auto neared office, I homed in on the gate and then handing the money I charged towards the shelter. Of course I was completely drenched in less than four seconds.
As soon as I got into the lift, I realized something was amiss. I had left my stupid phone in the auto!! I ran out to the gate but it was too late. I called, but there wasn't any answer. I even sent sentimental messages but there was no response. I don't remember thinking of Girish immediately then. But later in the day I did realize that the phone had cost just about 3000 and I had left it in an auto after all. Also that Girish was lost to me forever...
Even today sometimes I think of Girish and wonder what he is upto...
I was caught in the midst of a usual monsoon downpour in Mumbai... There were a million autos to choose from, all stranded in traffic right outside my office. I waited under the shed with the guards, carefully homed in on one of the rickshaws and then made a crazy dash for it. Well I did make it into the wretched thing in less than four seconds but I was completely soaked nevertheless.
Juhu Tara Road ...
90 lagega boss!
Kyo? Meter??
Nahin boss...
Saala tum Bombay wale bhi poorey chor ho - aisey hin log boltey hain ki Bombay ke auto wale imandaari se kaam karte hain...
Toh utar jao na...
Theek hai!
Hmm but it was raining so hard that I swallowed my pride and remained where I was - then I pretended to be on the phone. It wasn't the 90 bucks - it was irritating how he refused...
Anyway after my fake call - I engrossed myself with the chaos that is Bombay. Rain is such an integral part of the city. In Delhi when it rains people huddle under flyovers and bus stops - here life goes on. If its only a faint drizzle you'll probably even see someone read a newspaper in the rain or sip on tea or something.
Chori nahin karte hain hum boss. Majboori hai...
He was looking at me through the rear-view mirror. I felt a little nice - my jibe had probably unsettled him, I guess no one likes to be told, in a nice way, like you care or something, that they are cheating. No its not that - to be told that they cheat when you really really mean it in a genuine manner but not really yell at them or anything, just make an observation. We all like to believe we live honest lives.
I didn't talk about it much though, just said it was alright. A little later when we got further tangled in traffic, he began to speak. All Mumbai auto/taxi drivers can be grouped according to the actor/actresses they claim sat in their vehicle. Mine had a rendezvous with Jackie Shroff (eeks). He was apparently very nice to him and gave him his address and even now keeps in touch. I think Mumbai does that - makes all its inhabitants dreamy. Its a nice thing if you think of it.. Of course this information was passed on to me only after Girish (ya, I remember, clearly) took me through a thorough interview. But he was likable, and I obliged with accurate data.
We were still only one corner ahead of my office and Girish and me knew almost all there is to know about a stranger. Our conversation then moved to how he felt that the Bombay rains other than the two days in 2005 haven't suddenly become heavier. He said that it rained like this every year, except now the whole nation had gotten involved and the media was disappointed if the rains aren't exceptional and if a few people didn't die. At the next signal I offered him a smoke - we were buddies!
He had two daughters. Both were in school, he wanted to educate them and send them to college. He was from UP - but had settled here for good. He didn't seem to like his family back home - he thought they were petty and ignorant. He wanted to, at some point, start his own business - his plan was to be the one renting out cars for movie shoots. It was his dream job, Bombay does this to people I tell you... Girish and me then made general comments on things like poverty, good and evil, politicians, Taxi Vs Auto, Bombay Vs Rest of India, cricket, media, I even asked him to tell me the best places to eat in Bombay (Bade Mian)...
Somewhere in all this chatter we got back to the issue of the higher tariff. He said he knew he was charging more, but he was desperate. He owed somebody 3000 rupees and that he'd lose his auto if he didnt pay up by next week.
Garib aadmi kya karega? Humara sau-pachaas bahut kharab hota hai - baaki lakho rupiah kha jaate hain aur koi kuch nahin kehta...
When someone says something and they believe in it, like really believe in it - you cannot help it.. Also Girish in general came across as genuine. Hmm I said it was true but that doesn't mean one should give up on being nice and leading an honest decent life. He agreed in return, but said that the auto was everything to him and his family and he was couldn't help it. Well both of us didn't speak for a while, I was engulfed with some amount of sadness as well. I returned to staring at Bombay being lashed by the usual monsoon shower.
Girish broke the silence through his prediction of the fate of the latest Bollywood pot boiler. With a sense of relief, I entered into a masala laden conversation on Bollywood. We discussed box office collections, old movies and new, the prettiest women and even some gossip. Of course we revisited Jackie Shroff...
After a bit I told him I was in Bombay for my internship. If they liked my work they'd give me a permanent job. Girish thought it was strange - this whole business of internships. He felt one should be hired once and for all. Nervously he asked me how much I earned - I told him 12,500 was what was paid to me as stipend (the truth). Somehow I felt he wouldn't understand so I added with haste that my stay and meals were paid for and that the permanent job came with a much lavish salary. I don't understand why I did that but I didn't want him to think I wasn't getting much by way of money.
Girish was quiet for a while - then he said that he was very happy that I was earning so much at such an early age and that my parents must be proud of me. It really kills you when a grown up man says such things - he said he couldn't dream of earning so much ever. It was only the difference of the families that we were born in that made me sit where I was sitting and Girish the auto-driver. It was really awful. Once again we sank into silence.
I was looking now at a local train running parallel to the road. A ride on one of those was on top of my to-do list while in Bombay. Last Sunday I took a ticket to VT, when the train pulled in I saw a few coaches packed to such an extent it seemed they would burst and then others which were completely empty. I made the obvious decision and sat inside an almost empty coach. Apparently if you are caught in first-class on a second-class ticket you have to pay some five hundred rupees as fine.
It was my turn to break the uncomfortable silence. I offered to pay Girish the 3000 rupees he needed. I don't know why I did it, but I just did. It was the first money I had earned, and back home my parents would ask me to give some to a temple and to send some to my ancestral village. I thought there was more practical good in giving the money to Girish. We were almost outside my hotel and I gave Girish my phone no. and told him to give me a call the day after tomorrow (I was going to Pune that evening), I said I'd give him he money then.
******
Girish called me while I was returning from Pune - I had forgotten all about him and that strange afternoon. But I noticed from his voice that he hadn't, it was almost as if he was calling me from that afternoon, as if he was still in that day. I know I must have been in his thoughts ever since, he might have told everybody about me, maybe from now on, he'll mention me rather than Jackie Shroff to interested customers. But I hadn't thought of him at all... I asked him to call me in a few hours, when I'd be in Bombay. Suddenly now, the thought of parting with all that money didn't offer any philanthropic kicks. I had had a nice time in Pune and it had cost quite a bit.
My mind tried to go back to Girish. Had he planned it out? I couldn't decide whether when I offered my help he resisted or not. Unconsciously but rigorously I kept trying to remember something that would help build a case against Girish. By the time I got to Bombay (it was still pouring) deep down inside of me I had made up my mind - I wasn't going to give Girish the money. I don't even recollect feeling very very horrible about it, my chief concern was how to get him to not call me and also I was worried since he had seen the hotel where I got off.
I thought of Girish a lot in the next few days - the whole incident made me ask myself whether I was essentially a nice person like I thought or not. I knew it wasn't too far fetched a possibility that Girish was lying, but that was not enough to stop me from feeling guilty. I thought of Girish's daughters and what would become of Girish's plans of sending them to college if his auto was actually seized. I don't exactly remember how I felt, but it couldn't have been a great feeling. Girish's phone calls followed me across the country as I traveled on account of my internship, to Baroda, Varanasi, Hyderabad, Ahmedabad... He called me Nikhil Bhai...
Nikhil Bhai kam se kam phone toh utha lo - Girish
Then one day about a fortnight after that afternoon with Girish, I was on my way to office. I won't say he had tormented me ever since (every morning outside my office or the hotel I half expected him to be lurking somewhere with a knife, waiting to stab me) but I still thought of him every now and then. It was raining as usual. I ended a conversation with someone on the phone as the auto neared office, I homed in on the gate and then handing the money I charged towards the shelter. Of course I was completely drenched in less than four seconds.
As soon as I got into the lift, I realized something was amiss. I had left my stupid phone in the auto!! I ran out to the gate but it was too late. I called, but there wasn't any answer. I even sent sentimental messages but there was no response. I don't remember thinking of Girish immediately then. But later in the day I did realize that the phone had cost just about 3000 and I had left it in an auto after all. Also that Girish was lost to me forever...
Even today sometimes I think of Girish and wonder what he is upto...
Posts
4 comments:
i see you've made good use of your weekend by embellishing the old blog.
all set to re-acquaint myself with mumbai. shall attempt a firm grip on reality..
..and my phone
best,
Nikhil?
Nikhil bhai?
Surely not.
how is bombay treating you? have you fallen in love with it?
yes and no. but it may take a trip to OTH for you to find out I'm afraid. Be there at the end of December.
Post a Comment