Third of a Kind
"The human species is of two kinds, men and women". I'm happy to announce an update, AUTO DRIVERS.
I'm waiting for the CTC bus. The auto chugs slowly by. Rajinikanth is smiling at me, and the angelic being inside makes an ophthalmic invitation. A journey sans foot stamping, shoves and pushes is very tempting. I weigh my financial options. I sin.
As tradition goes, I haggle. What?! 60 bucks? Six zero sixty? I thank the angel profusely and politely refuse. If you're wondering about a taximeter, forget it... It never was. Then comes the 50 bucks guy. Two insults hit me and whroom! He's gone. And finally the promising 40 buck offer. At this point the odds are 50-50. It works my way. Funny that they all look as old as they demand.
I make my clumsy entry. Huh? I heard him say something. Got it, this must be the 'economist'. A treatise on inflation and the oil markets in classical Madras baashai. I sympathise with spontaenity.
There are also others, like 'griper' who cribs about driving that long for the measly 30 bucks. Wait a second... I shell out 8% of my hard won monthly allowance and he calls it measly?!
The Homely man. He's studied upto the 10th standard. Two brothers with government jobs. A son in school. India is too difficult to live in. Gonna make his son a pastor and send him to Australia. They can be very touching. Some have inspired me.
Khalil Gibran. Live and let live. Do good and be good. Life is short, make it sweet. Always into social work... free philosophy for the middle class customer. Ofcourse, opinions and suggestions for improvement are invited as long as they get along with his.
The Young bloods. Fast and efficient to a fault (no pun intended). You may even get a free Disneyland ride, up and down enormous potholes, speed brakers, muddy pools, and slanderous symphonies drifting to your ears.
The Slow and steady types. Bicycles overtake the tortorickshaw. There is a gap big enough to hold a van, it's honking crazy behind and this guy is in oblivion, busy putting his mandible to work. Spat! I go sick with disgust.
The Responsible Indian Hand builder. Yes, hand builder, like the body builder. He is always toning his biceps and triceps. At every turn and change of lanes, he exercises.
The Parthian shot. Like the calm before the storm, this guy gives a wonderful travelling experience. And when it's time to pay, he attacks. I'm a stinking rich, wicked woman with no consideration for his difficulties, and so heartless as to pay only 30 bucks incl. of service charges for the loooong journey.
And finally the (ab?)normal autodriver. He bargains reasonably, drives smoothly, right speed and gets you to your destination on time. An eventless, meditative journey.
Yet I have this love for auto-escapades. Ofcourse, there is dictum no. 1 'Be careful' (I can say that asleep, thanks to my mom). But once that is taken care of, there is nothing to beat the Chennai aato savari. For inspite of all its eccentricities, there is one unique and charming aspect to it, "Gear up! You never know what's coming next".
I'm waiting for the CTC bus. The auto chugs slowly by. Rajinikanth is smiling at me, and the angelic being inside makes an ophthalmic invitation. A journey sans foot stamping, shoves and pushes is very tempting. I weigh my financial options. I sin.
As tradition goes, I haggle. What?! 60 bucks? Six zero sixty? I thank the angel profusely and politely refuse. If you're wondering about a taximeter, forget it... It never was. Then comes the 50 bucks guy. Two insults hit me and whroom! He's gone. And finally the promising 40 buck offer. At this point the odds are 50-50. It works my way. Funny that they all look as old as they demand.
I make my clumsy entry. Huh? I heard him say something. Got it, this must be the 'economist'. A treatise on inflation and the oil markets in classical Madras baashai. I sympathise with spontaenity.
There are also others, like 'griper' who cribs about driving that long for the measly 30 bucks. Wait a second... I shell out 8% of my hard won monthly allowance and he calls it measly?!
The Homely man. He's studied upto the 10th standard. Two brothers with government jobs. A son in school. India is too difficult to live in. Gonna make his son a pastor and send him to Australia. They can be very touching. Some have inspired me.
Khalil Gibran. Live and let live. Do good and be good. Life is short, make it sweet. Always into social work... free philosophy for the middle class customer. Ofcourse, opinions and suggestions for improvement are invited as long as they get along with his.
The Young bloods. Fast and efficient to a fault (no pun intended). You may even get a free Disneyland ride, up and down enormous potholes, speed brakers, muddy pools, and slanderous symphonies drifting to your ears.
The Slow and steady types. Bicycles overtake the tortorickshaw. There is a gap big enough to hold a van, it's honking crazy behind and this guy is in oblivion, busy putting his mandible to work. Spat! I go sick with disgust.
The Responsible Indian Hand builder. Yes, hand builder, like the body builder. He is always toning his biceps and triceps. At every turn and change of lanes, he exercises.
The Parthian shot. Like the calm before the storm, this guy gives a wonderful travelling experience. And when it's time to pay, he attacks. I'm a stinking rich, wicked woman with no consideration for his difficulties, and so heartless as to pay only 30 bucks incl. of service charges for the loooong journey.
And finally the (ab?)normal autodriver. He bargains reasonably, drives smoothly, right speed and gets you to your destination on time. An eventless, meditative journey.
Yet I have this love for auto-escapades. Ofcourse, there is dictum no. 1 'Be careful' (I can say that asleep, thanks to my mom). But once that is taken care of, there is nothing to beat the Chennai aato savari. For inspite of all its eccentricities, there is one unique and charming aspect to it, "Gear up! You never know what's coming next".
posted by Tangentielle at 9:37 am
1 Comments:
good one pretty extensive too
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