My drive with a Pakistani... around Kashmir

Would you hold a potato to an adult and ask if it's a potato, without risking your sanity? Well, today a cabbie asked me, "Are you Indian?" Even a blind can figure the Indian in me...

I hailed this cab and the grumpy-looking driver's first question was my destination. The second, which followed no sooner than I answered the first, was confirming my nationality. He turned back and threw a more scorn-filled look in acknowledgment. The young chap was silent for about 2 minutes, studying me through his rear-view mirror.

He turned and announced without ado, "I am from Pakistani Kashmir."

"Okay."

He continued looking at me through the mirror. His eyes bitter, yelling a hundred withheld emotions. Whoever said eyes speak, is so right!

"It's a beautiful place." I said.

He turned and queried with visible hatred, "Which place?"

"Kashmir," I said.

"Your government doesn't let us live in peace. Everyday killing. Only my mother and sister live there. So I moved them to another place, 21kms inside."

I smiled in reply. And received more scorn.

"You are a responsible son." I tried.

He didn't thaw. Instead, crinkled his brows in contempt.

I remained quiet for a few minutes and then tried again, "I have many Pakistani friends."

Now he turned back, possibly to take a new look at me, when I said, "They are all so nice people."

He nodded. "People are nice, madam. Politicians are causing problems."

I smiled. And lo!, the cabbie smiled too.

Then, there was no stopping him. He took a u-turn, changed the route to bypass traffic, shared with me his sister's experience at taking a driving licence, how he completed his graduation, how he loves Anil Kapoor and Akshay Kumar, how crazy his dad was about Amitabh Bachchan...up until how he's now waiting for an interview call from Dnata as he is tired of driving.

At the end of the 40-minute drive, the handsome chap [yep, once he shed his grumpiness, he was a cute fellow] refused to take the full fare.

"Not all customers speak, madam. You are educated that's why you speak differently..." He gave me his reasons.

I gave him mine. How his company demands he fulfill his target and how every fil matters at the month-end.

At last, he let me get-off only after I promised that I will ride with him again.


"On full discount, madam."

"Full discount! what's that? In all these years, I've not heard of discounts on taxi rides!"

"I will not switch on the meter madam," he explained and shared his mobile number.

God Bless him!

PS: A few words spoken with the right intention will work wonders!

The cabbie drives on…

Prompt: Fragile Lives (Used in sentence)
 

Life is beautiful! I sincerely believe. There are plenty of awesome people, loving souls, provided you are open to attracting them into your life. The more you learn to trust the ways of the Universe and have faith in the Divine, the more wonderful people will walk into your space.

When my driver went on an emergency, I was stranded. Getting to work on time became a task. I had to re-adjust my morning schedule in order to "waste" those extra minutes waiting on the road to flag down a cab.

But lo! I hailed the same cab on three consecutive days. The cabbie was as surprised as me. On the fourth day, we exchanged numbers and now he drives me to and from work every single day. He waits patiently if my meetings run late, offers me soft drinks, switches off the meter if the traffic builds up, seeks my advice on gifts for his teenager... he's become like family. Just like my driver, who has gone to nurse his ailing wife, and calls me every week from Pakistan updating me of his situation and never once forgetting to ask me about Diya and conveying his regards to Sanjeev.

Recently, one day, I caught my effervescent and cheerful new cabbie friend, quiet. Almost sullen. On me pestering him, he opened up.

In his own words...

"Today, it's three years, madam. On the evening of May 14, 2013, I reached home. My wife and children were waiting for me. My old mother also came out to greet me. She can't walk, but she was standing beside me all the time, I was talking to men from the neighbourhood.

"It was 9pm, by the time the house was empty. Then I had a shower and had dinner and slept off. I was very tired madam. The previous night I had not slept, was packing and friends coming over. Then the four-hour drive from the airport. I somehow managed to unpack and give the toys to me youngest son. I told my daughters I will give them their gifts in the morning.

"Morning, my wife woke me up with tea. That's when I realised, I did not speak even a word to her. I didn't even know when she closed the kitchen and joined me at night. I asked her to sit down, but she said that she was very busy. She had a lot of work that day madam. Two goats were purchased to celebrate my home-coming. She had to oversee all the preparations. It's tradition in our place, madam, when we go home all our relatives - men, women and kids, come to greet us.

"It was a feast that day. Houseful. Like a wedding day. Most of the people had stayed back for dinner, too. I distributed all the chocolates and perfumes to the women and kids. Gave money to elders. Everyone left happy. My mother was proud. I could see it in her eyes, madam. At last, at about 10pm, I had some time to myself. I took out the Rolex watch, I bought for my wife, and hid it underneath the pillow. I couldn't wait to see her surprise, when I give her.

"I waited till 12, and she didn't come. So I went looking for her. Our youngest son had a fall, and she was attending to him. I said, "I'm waiting for you. Come fast," and I returned to our room.

"I fell asleep, madam. When I woke up, she was lying beside me. She was awake. I sat up. She didn't speak. I thought she was tired. So I lifted her up on my lap. I asked her to guess what gift I got her. But she was silent, madam. I just held her. After all, she had such a hectic day."

He felt silent at this point. And I let him be. After a few minutes, he continued...

"Then she said, she is uncomfortable. I asked her what problem she is having and she said she can't breathe. That's when I noticed madam, for the first time, her eyes were not bright. Her face was pale. I shouted. I called for my brother. My younger brother heard me and came in. I asked him to call our friend who has a car. Fast I urged him to run and fetch the vehicle.

"She went off madam. In my lap. In my hands, she went off. I didn't even speak to her in peace."

"Was she suffering from some..."

"Nothing madam," he replied before I could finish the question. "She was healthy. Very beautiful. Not like women here, madam. No make-up shake-up. So beautiful she was, natural beauty. She was excited about me going. She had so many plans. We are all balanced on a delicate breath. Fragile lives! As long as you can hold it in you are alive..."

God Bless him!

I am with Team #CrimsonRush for the #BarAThon from 1st to 7th August 2016

An embarrassing moment

A lanky girl walked towards the bulletin board of her school reception, towing her sturdy dad. Though she was confident of making it to Grade 8, there was one other hurdle she had to cross. As per the convent rules then, parents were required to meet the previous year's class teacher and collect the detailed progress card before their wards could begin the next academic year.

Her Grade 7 class teacher, looked at her dad and said, "For all the trouble she gave me in Social Studies, she's managed to pass with a distinction."

Except for the Himalayas, which she was eager to spot at the top of the India map, she dreaded marking anything else. Kaveri, Godavari and Brahmaputra flowed adjacently, states trespassed into one another, too. "When will you get it right?" her teacher sighed each time. Now that same teacher was smiling. "I'm surprised. How did you do it?" she asked.

And the girl was relieved that her customised recipe of taking photographic images of lessons were yielding results at last.

Her tryst with geography had begun then! [She refuses to share the date.]

She simply learnt by rote and vomited on demand, imbibing images of letters, without understanding. At times it back-fired. For instance, she lost marks in Grade 10 public examination because she mistook Green Revolution for Glorious Revolution! So what if one was Geography and the other History; both were Social Studies for her! 

********

Two years later, she no more had the comfort of dedicated and secured transportation. On her first day to college, her over-protective dad accompanied her explaining to her bus numbers, names of stops, alternative routes, etc.

As they got off the at the college stop her dad stood her and said, "Look around. See there's that bridge that goes down there. Take left just before that, and keep walking until you see the gifts shop from where you'll turn left again and you'll see your college. Simple."

"All the stops in the city look the same," she said, to which her dad replied, "It's just a matter of few days, you'll master it. Look out for this huge Raymond hoarding."

She looked up hard and long at the hoarding. Clicked in her mind the size, shape and even the height at which it was placed. The Raymond's model became her knight in shining armour.

Almost eight months later, one morning she noted the bus was unusually less crowded. When the bus got on to an unfamiliar street, she asked the woman beside her, "Isn't this Bus No. 47." 

After a few moments of  awkward conversation, she was convinced that she had missed her college stop.

The Raymond model was replaced with a guy sporting a cowboy hat and cigarette between his lips.

She got to class two hours late.

That was the last she took photographic images.

********

 

A few years later, she enrolled for a professional course called journalism, to the utter dismay of her parents and bewilderment of her close friends.

 

Her first field assignment was to cover an Alliance Française event.

 

The following day, her professor announced in class, "In my 20 years of teaching experience, you are the only student I've seen who can score an A+ and a C- with equal ease."

[By the time, she managed to find the venue, the press conference was over. Her report had absolutely no facts.]

After that she always made arrangements to ride pillion with anyone who claimed to know the route.

********

That habit stayed with her. Married to a man with tremendous patience, she now  euphemised his virtue as her "love to be driven around".

"In a place like Dubai it is very easy to go about. Just follow signboards and remember landmarks," he instructed.

Returning from her first job interview, she told the cab driver, "Bur Dubai." He waited for more details and she remembered, yep landmark! "Near the mosque," she recited triumphantly.

He looked at her as if she were insane. "So many mosques here, madam," he said.

Thank God for small mercies. Mobile phones were invented by then.

So, thereafter, madam got her husband instruct cabbies!

********

Years passed by, when one day her daughter's friend wanted to visit. Her chirpy and cheerful little girl handed over the phone to her enthusiastically and whispered, "Shruti wants to come home to play. Her mother wants our location."

After the initial pleasantries with the other woman, she politely told her that she would be given a call to detail the route map in a minute.

Her little girl was grumpy and sullen suddenly.

"Your dad will call her right now. You will not waste even a minute of your playtime," she assured her child.

"It's not that. What will Shruti's mother think? That my mom is so dumb, she doesn't even know where she stays. It's so embarrassing..."

This time it was EMBARASSING!

PS: I wish not to know her. But if I deny knowing her then I'm not me!