Inspired by Balram Halwai, a shamefully poor village boy-turned-entrepreneur (shameful for the Indian Government ie), in The White Tiger, I must share the humble tale of a college student-turned-cab driver-turned- automobile employee, right here in Noida.
Before the days of my wee Alto, I was dependent on sub-moronic autowallahs and private cab service drivers, who charged me a mini-fortune and tested my patience, with the constant haggling, extreme rudeness and lack of punctuality. I ought to have listened to my friend, a long-time resident of Delhi, who advised way back: when in Delhi you must get a car before you start even looking for a house!
Then came along V, a cab driver who arrived on time, one fine morning to take me to Delhi and back. He came through a well-recommended cab service. Alan joined me in two hour’s time, and we had a smooth travel experience. Next time round, we skipped the cab company and called V, directly, because as Alan pointed out to me, he was punctual, polite and he had a good stereo system in his wee Alto cab.
Whilst I completed my meetings in the vicinity, Alan treated V to a cup of coffee and a sandwich at Café Coffee Day, thus getting to know that he was a 22-year old college dropout, who now drove a cab because his father, a farmer by profession and the only earning member of the family was paralysed from the waist downwards, post an accident.
He also gauged that V was a bright kid, and it was an absolute shame that he didn’t have the opportunity we had. Also, his English was poor, and according to V this stood between him and a better paying, full-time job.
Unfortunately, the cab business is unpredictable. On some days there is no business and some days there are two or three gigs, of which he can max squeeze in one or two. So now, having to support a wife, a mother, a difficult younger brother who was very angry at the prospect of not being able to attend college due to the lack of funds and bed-ridden father, whose medical bills cost a pretty penny, life was reduced to a hand-to-mouth existence.
He aspired to be a policeman, but failed the test by literally a stone’s throw due to some misinformation; the shot-put round fell short by a few feet because the minimum distance required was a little less than what he had practiced for. And there are no second chances, unless one is willing shell out some money.
He shared his disillusionment with the Indian police authorities with us, over some veg pizza and coke, and we listened, empathetically. So, he gave up his police dreams and continued to drive us around regularly. One day he confessed that we were lucky for him; on the days when he was with us, he inevitably ended up with a second gig, minutes after he dropped us off.
He and Alan became fast friends and even indulged some guy talk (of course I wasn’t around during these intimate confidences). The latter compiled a CD of English music, everything from Snap to Buddha Bar, which V could play (and impress) for international clients, and otherwise. On some levels, I think he was fascinated by Alan’s personality, his liberal thoughts and unconventional family background, himself hailing from a conservative, traditional joint family. He told me one day,” Ma’am, maine iss thurahuh ka aadmi khabhi nahi millah (I have never met anyone like Alan).”
Then it was time for Alan to leave, and as we drove him to the airport, both V and I, were consumed by sadness to see him go, yet, happy that he was finally on his way to fulfilling his destiny. On the way home, V confessed that he may never seem him again, but he would listen to the CD and reminisce about the good times.
The story doesn’t end here. In fact, it’s probably just begun. Soon after Alan’s departure, I connected V with some friends who needed a cab service to pick up and drop them to work and back home. They cut a deal, which provides him a regular income.
Lady luck shone her light on him even further; he got a job with an automobile company in the quality check department. Now, he just rents out his car to the folks concerned and still managing to keep his full-time job.
But I doubt he’ll stay in quality check long. This boy should go places…sans committing any homicides.
written with alot of passion