Auto mein Tick

If you live in the suburbs in Mumbai, the autorickshaw constitutes a big part of your life. You are either in it, looking to get in it, cursing it for not being available or wondering if you'll get one. 

Since I can't drive (this year's new year resolution, don't worry!!), the autorickshaw plays a very important part in my life. Every morning, the first thought that strikes me is - Aaj auto milega kya? Every time the three wheels approach me, I swear my heart beats a little faster with anticipation - will the driver look at me with disgust like I have asked him to dump me in a garbage bin and go off, or will he stop and execute the almost imperceptible jerk of his head indicating he is going to be kind and take me to my destination? The days that begin with a hassle free rickshaw ride to office automatically become more pleasant and productive!

Over the years, I have had many very interesting rickshaw rides. From the grumpy drivers to the ones who think they are Schumacher, I have seen them all. 

And I have spoken with all, or rather, they have all spoken with me. I have some connection, some pichle janam ka rishta,  that makes them start a conversation. I have heard sob stories, happy memories, life lessons and some fantastic tales. There was the guy whose brother was an IAS officer and sister was married to a senior police inspector. I asked him why then did he drive an auto? "Kyun, apna bhi to izzat ka kamai hai", he said to me. We discussed education and women's rights from Andheri to Kandivali and he promised me he would not marry off his daughter as soon as she finished 10th standard. I still don't think his brother was an IAS officer, but well... big deal!

One of the rides was almost magical and uplifting. I was quiet and thoughtful, thinking about life and troubles when the driver just randomly started speaking about Mumbai and how he was following his dreams... he used words like "opportunity" in normal conversation with perfect pronunciation.. and i was really, truly spellbound. When I got off, he said to me "Aap tension mat lo, sab thik ho jayega". With a wave he left and I stood on the road for sometime wondering what happened!

Two things that auto drivers are really good at are - home remedies for common ailments and philosophy. I have heard about the wonders of methi dana and honey and other assorted items. And some priceless gems like - 

20 lakh ka gaadi chalate hain hum log, 10 paise ka bhi izzat nahi hai

Cycle wale ko motorcycle, aur motorcycle wale ko gaadi chahiye madam, duniya tabhi to aage badhega

Ek gaadi chalane ko aur 4 road pe park karke zamane ko dikhane ke liye chahiye aaj kal

Mumbai mein traffic, dhool, tension hai...par life bhi yahin hai apna

Phrases like "Left se sarka lo" and words like "magajmaari" are additions to my vocabulary courtesy these drivers. 

The ride on 25th Nov, 2010 will always remain etched in my memory. I handed over some extra money to the driver who was visibly worried since he did not have Rs 300 to get medicine for his son who had fallen off the balcony or roof or something. He promised me he would go straight to the hospital to be with his son and said "aapko kabhi nahi bhoolenge". He left and I got the call that changed everything in my life - my parents had met with an accident...I always wonder what happened to that guy's son - he somehow finds a place in all my prayers, the last link sort of, to my parents...

Far away from their homes, these guys work so hard to earn a living. I sometimes wonder how bad their lives would have been, to make them come to this crowded, mad, polluted city and ride around town on three wheels the whole day. How many dreams would have been broken in pursuit of a livelihood... and how many needs fulfilled...

I think about all those conversations and I hope all of their daughters completed their education, all their sons found jobs and all of their bowel movements benefited from the miraculous powers of methi dana. To all those drivers who made my rides interesting - Thank You!! It is because of you that I don't strangle the other infuriating drivers I meet each day. May God bless you and the three wheels of your auto!!

The Dream Factory

Continuing the Little girl series...


The Dream Factory

One day she got lost. She was on her way back from the forest, where she had spent time sulking. Her brother had teased her mercilessly and laughed at her when she cried. The forest always calmed her down and she sat there for hours together.

She was hopping around, looking at trees and flowers. So deep was she in thought, that she hadn’t realized where she was going. This happened to her often enough, but she never learnt! This time, she was really lost and all alone.

“Lets see where this path goes”, she thought, when she saw a silvery road. The minute she put a foot on it, she knew there was something different. The trees looked purple and the sky was yellow! There were pink birds flying. Behind a blue cloud was a green sun, with black eyes and even a nose! She was amazed and giggled at the sun and it winked back at her! “Its weird, but I feel”, she thought “that I’ve been here before”.

           
She walked on the silvery road and reached a big house with a small door. She opened it and stepped inside, to see the most amazing sight! Lots of little people, with pointed hats and even more pointed noses, seemed to be busy at work. They were all singing a song and working to the rhythm. They were working at a big white machine which let out orange smoke!! She walked around in a daze and bumped into one little person’s long pointed nose! “Hey, look where you are going, you almost broke my nose”, he said.

           
The little girl was scared and big tears welled up in her big eyes. The little person felt sorry that he had screamed at her and asked her in a gentle voice, “Who are you, my child, and what are you doing here?” The little girl was sobbing quietly and he spoke again, “ Don’t cry, dear girl, tell me your name”. By then, however, more pointed noses with little people attached to them, gathered around her. Their noses got tangled with each other and they poked each other! She laughed at this, the little girl, and wiped her tears and told them her name. No one heard her though, in all the confusion, so we still don’t know!

          
One little person with a big pointed hat and the biggest pointed nose came to her with a lollypop and she took it gladly and looked at him and said, “why do you have such a big nose?”. He smiled gently and said, “Because I am the chief dream maker”.

“What is that?”, she asked.

“Well. Where do you think you are, my child? This is the Dream Factory!”

The little girl looked confused. The little person, with the biggest nose, smiled at her and told her to come along. “I will show you around”, he said and took her hand in his.

            
“People have a lot of wishes”, he said “They want different things. Some people want money, lots of it, and some want big houses. Some people just desire good food and some only think of clothes! I know a girl who only wishes for shoes! We smell their desires (“oh! That’s what the big noses are for!” exclaimed the little girl)”, said the chief, nodding his head, “and we make dreams for them. So that, at least in their sleep, they might have what they want. They wake up with good thoughts and live another day in hope”

           

“Why would anyone want those things? After all they are just things!” wondered the girl aloud.

“Not everyone is like you, dear girl, not everyone wants only a colorful world”

The girl was amazed the chief knew, and was embarrassed. “Don’t be shy, my child, I smelt your wish myself. When you had passed by one day, on your way to the forest. I created your dream myself. Its was new and wonderful. But, don’t think others’ dreams are bad. Dreams are never good or bad. They are just dreams.”

The little girl nodded wisely and then exclaimed, “Oh, that’s why I thought I knew that road! I had dreamt of it!!” All the little people laughed with her and showed her the dreams they made. She had a mischievous thought then.

“Can you tell me what my brother wishes for?”

“No, dear girl, because his wishes are his own. You would be pleasantly surprised if you knew, but I can’t tell you. I can, however, tell you what his dream will be tonight!!”

The girl was ecstatic then she saw her brother’s dream. She smiled at it (No, we cant tell you what it was!!). She hopped and skipped all the way home, for they showed her the way back.

The brother came running to her and asked her where she had been. She smiled at him and kept quiet. He started teasing her then again, hoping to make her mad at him! But nothing bothered her anymore! When they were going to bed, her brother was still teasing her and she told him she knew what he dreamt of, she knew everything! She told him what he would dream of that night and went to sleep, smiling. When she woke up the next morning, she saw her brother sitting on his bed, looking utterly confused! She laughed at him and ran away before he could ask anything!!

Row 14, Flight 6E 257

Flight 6E 257. From Bhubaneswar to Mumbai. Seat No. 14D, E and F. Three passengers. All three sad. All three cried, sniffed, slept and wrote in their diaries during the three hour long flight. D wrote down his expenses, F wrote some addresses and E, this blog post. 

D didn’t speak much. Sobbed quietly. Probably being a man, he couldn’t cry openly. His cabin baggage was a thin plastic bag, out of which he took out some fruit and ate during the break.  He kept looking ahead, towards the captain’s cabin, hoping, it seemed to urge the pilot to go faster. He was fidgety and restless. He slept when the food trolley came and pretended he didn’t hear  the air hostess when she called him. He looked left and right and slowly took out a pocket diary and pen. He wrote down his expenses date-wise. He wrote it down till the 2^nd decimal point. He added it up and did some thinking. Then he hung his head, cried some more, put his diary back and looked heaven wards in despair. We were 10 kms above sea level, the pilot informed us, so probably closer to God! He muttered something, put his seat back, and went to sleep. 

F was different. She was in bright clothes, and wore a lot of gold. She was on the phone whenever it was allowed. She spoke in Oriya, which most of us understood. She had to speak loudly, for the person at the other end couldn’t hear. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand, hoping it would muffle her voice. She didn’t realise, probably, that the chances of her meeting any of us again were really slim and that no one gave two hoots about her family problems. That’s what seems to be the issue.  When I had walked in, she was on the phone. She stopped when we took off and again spoke during the break. She cried when she wasn’t speaking on the phone, putting up a brave front. “Don’t worry, all will be okay, such things happen..I will come very soon again”. Hang up. Sniff sniff.  Call back again! I imagined old, ailing parents, a sister in a bad marriage, some relatives with monetary problems...but couldn’t decide what her problem was. She blew her nose, switched off her phone and went to sleep, looking worried still.

I took out my diary then and started writing. I had been faking sleep till then. Why had I been sobbing? Well, that’s a REALLY long story. A blog post wouldn’t do justice to it. It will probably be a book. A “Jhumpa Lahiri type deep book” as some might say!!

I looked around. The world seemed normal otherwise. People were eyeing the pretty air hostess. Wanting water, asking really dumb questions (“Emergency door has to be opened only during emergency no? “ I mean... really!!) Looked like it was only us passengers in 14 D, E and F who were worried and sad. Different people, different problems, all brought together by some divine intervention to row 14! (I am not counting A, B and C. They were foreigners and everyone knows foreigners don’t have any problems. What? They really don’t!) Wonder how we would deal with our lives and what would become of us once we landed. I wanted to hug them both, a group hug of row 14 (Indian nationals only) and tell them that things would be better and that they shouldn’t give up. But well, they were both snoring now (in rhythm, no less!!), so that couldn’t happen. Plus, it would be really weird for them. They didn’t know me. To them, I would always be the girl in 14 E, who came sat, sniffed, wiped her tears, pretended no one saw and then proceeded to eat a whole bar of chocolate!

Where ever you are, 14 D and F, have faith. Things will be better soon.

About a Girl

I have always wanted to tell stories. Ever since I read my first Enid Blyton book, about kids having lemonade, and tins of tongue (whatever that is!). Then went on to Jane Austen's novels and got lost in old british characters and words like "whither"..even courtroom dramas of Perry Mason and Della Street... And finally went mad after Harry Potter!

Offlate there have been many firsts in my life. I am trying everything I have ever wanted and not wanted to do. So I thought why not this too. Started writing a little.. any feedback will be welcome :-)

About a girl

This is the story of a girl, simple, yet special in her own way. Born to parents who loved her more than anyone, she grew up dreaming and not sharing her dreams with anyone. Why, you ask? She knows not herself. "I am like this only", she says to anyone who asks.

Her father was a magician, but no one knew!! (And you dare not tell anyone!) He could turn sorrow into happiness! People came from far and wide to meet him. He smiled at everyone he met and they felt their problems disappear. They would wonder how!? They would ask him. He would wink at them and say he was a doctor.

Her mother was a fairy. Calm and serene, she loved everyone and everyone loved her, be it man, woman or animal. She had a beautiful voice and could talk to birds! She loved to watch them fly. All day long she could sit and watch birds fly! They came to her and sang for her and she laughed with them. And oh so magical was her laugh!

She had a brother, a brat he was, with twinkling eyes and a wicked smile! He loved her, but never told her, a strange boy he was! He would sit on trees and talk to leaves. He had a magical voice too, even better than his mum. No one knew of it, except the little girl. He would sing for her when they were alone, and she would laugh and clap!! It was their little secret he said not to be shared with the world.

People thought there was something strange about this family, something special, but didn't know what. They would look at their house and wonder- stop, stare and listen. Sounds of laughter and joy, and was that some music they heard? They would move closer, to take a peek. But all seemed normal. They would shake their heads and walk away. Smiling, wondering what it was about these people!! Up, above, beyond the clouds, God heard these thoughts and smiled. "These poor souls don't know", he thought "that this is a magical family".

Wherever they went, this magical family, they spread love and laughter. "The clowns" some called them fondly, but never did they mind. They went around, being the clowns, and their faces always without frowns! They had many adventures, but that's a story for another day. Because this is the story of the little girl, simple yet special, who grew up dreaming and not sharing her dreams with anyone. Her name, you ask? Sadly no one remembers!