TAKEN FOR A RIDE..
In a city as crowded as Bombay, where everybody is always in a hurry, it is not easy to manage to flag a cab or a rick. And it does not help that I'm perpetually ten minutes late.
As I rushed out of the house for a meeting that was to happen within the next five minutes, I ran past the watchman- who, as I could see reflected in the glass, rolled his eyes, much to my indignation. I scampered out onto the road towards the spot where there were normally a long line of ricks. As I should have learnt by now, there had to be just the one lone one, standing forlornly but impatiently.
I started towards it, and suddenly saw a lady sneaking towards my rick from the opposite direction. As I quickened my pace, I saw her lift her saree skirts and run. She managed to get there quicker than I did-- me having lost a few seconds to the shock of seeing the act of running in a saree.
I managed to get a rick a couple of minutes later. As luck would have it, it was the most rickety piece of machinery possible, with a driver who more than made up for it with the amount he spoke. He criticised everything and everybody in sight- the people drive today, how things were in his day, and how the damned policeman always picks on guys who drive well i.e. himself.
As I crossed my fingers that my phone wouldn't ring to ask where I was, my eyes kept darting to the meter. Was it my imagination or was the idiotic thing falling faster than ever?! I made up my mind to pay just so much, and no more. After stopping creakily at each possible signal, we were at the very last one. How is it that I always manage to just miss it, only to have to wait till the FIVE out of six other lines are done??!! As if in mock sympathy, the meter clicked loudly, and fell one more time.
In a city as crowded as Bombay, where everybody is always in a hurry, it is not easy to manage to flag a cab or a rick. And it does not help that I'm perpetually ten minutes late.
As I rushed out of the house for a meeting that was to happen within the next five minutes, I ran past the watchman- who, as I could see reflected in the glass, rolled his eyes, much to my indignation. I scampered out onto the road towards the spot where there were normally a long line of ricks. As I should have learnt by now, there had to be just the one lone one, standing forlornly but impatiently.
I started towards it, and suddenly saw a lady sneaking towards my rick from the opposite direction. As I quickened my pace, I saw her lift her saree skirts and run. She managed to get there quicker than I did-- me having lost a few seconds to the shock of seeing the act of running in a saree.
I managed to get a rick a couple of minutes later. As luck would have it, it was the most rickety piece of machinery possible, with a driver who more than made up for it with the amount he spoke. He criticised everything and everybody in sight- the people drive today, how things were in his day, and how the damned policeman always picks on guys who drive well i.e. himself.
As I crossed my fingers that my phone wouldn't ring to ask where I was, my eyes kept darting to the meter. Was it my imagination or was the idiotic thing falling faster than ever?! I made up my mind to pay just so much, and no more. After stopping creakily at each possible signal, we were at the very last one. How is it that I always manage to just miss it, only to have to wait till the FIVE out of six other lines are done??!! As if in mock sympathy, the meter clicked loudly, and fell one more time.
When I finally got there, I was twenty minutes late, and in no mood to argue. I gave the driver whatever he asked for, smiled politely when he said something about "Aaj kal ke bacche, always in a rush", and ran off.
Bah, I wonder what Murphy had to say about ricks.
posted by A at 12:20 AM
10 Comments:
The rick does get u out of traffic pretty quickly.. that is a feature that cannot be surpassed.. well except for a 2 wheeler maybe.. btw.. U lost out in a race to an aunty in a saree.. tsk tsk.. :D
ritesh: Hmm, does it?? Most of the time I'm inclined to believe that ricks manage to get stuck in traffic only so that they can wangle more money out of me.. such trick-ery, I tell you!!
And in my defence, the aunty was NOT very old!!!!!!! Bah!!
maybe she was on performance enhancing drugs.. right? :D
Aunty lifting a saree reminds me of that sidey govinda song!
ritesh: The saree belies the age. I insist that she was remarkably lithe and agile, and very unexpectedly so!
:D
thefirstidiot: Yaaaaa!!! And also the 'Rukmini Rukmini' dance!!!!
poopey gooooooooooo... too messed in the head to think of suitable comment.
Only y'day i was this little baby enjoying the warmth of a lovely home tucked away in B'lore... and today, I'm house hunting in Delhi, in the scorching heat, negotiating with brokers... waaaaaahhhhhhhh
dsk: Yes, you as a baby is imaginable.. but little??!! Nevahhh!!!!!!!!!
And I'm inclined to think that you'll feel much better in a few days when I call you to tell you that I'm doing the same.. only in some much tinier and shabbier city. Bah, sales!!!!!!!!!!
You should wear a sari too. And hike it up and run. Do it for our S&TC lunch. It will be entertaining if work gets too boring.
:P :P :P
deepbluesea: struggling with the saree during convo dinner was difficult enough.. lunch, you say?? Ouch.
hey babe, its almost been a month that you've blogged..
(see i commented now..shadddduppp n don't eat my brains !!! )
Post a Comment
<< Home