He is 34, he said; comfortable with spoken Hindi, he earned a thousand rupees a day after meeting operating expenses. This trip would cost me Rs. 620/-; but would give him four hundred. He seemed to be a happy-go-lucky chap and meandered his taxi through city’s lanes and bye-lanes , sometimes taking his cab to main streets. Most of the interior cityscape being unknown to me, I got little idea if the vehicle was on course. I looked at the Google Maps and the destination is now only 35 minutes- a piece of information that is reassuring. After my elder grandson downloaded the Uber App this morning and commanded the first cab for my solo trip in the morning, the return trip, now on, is my maiden self executed odyssey. He kept talking to people over wires flowing from his ears while driving and that made the journey pleasant; but not until he started crying suddenly and continued to speak between sobs. “Surely this man has received terrible news!” I thought and asked him if everything was fine! His voice was now normal and he confirmed everything was fine. It was now his turn to laugh with the person he was talking to till I had interrupted.
After driving me for over an hour on the hot mid day in his cab, he asked if I had had my food before commencing the journey. The words made a soothing impact. I asked if he would have food after dropping me at my destination. “Yes”, he said. “Where?” I asked. “At any appropriate eating place that served what I liked”, he said. “How much do you spend on food?” I asked. He liked two idlis for breakfast, if he had it before ten; otherwise it is a piece of bread with tea. The lunch costs him fifty rupees. He goes for his favourite Ragi mudda. Occasionally he adds to it an omelette when it costs ten rupees more. Ragi mudda made him feel cool throughout the day, he said. His austere living style surely had shaped his persona. He looked cool and cheerful. He could always afford a more expensive meal, his sense of discrimination, however, made him opt for what was essential for him. It was a learning experience.
The morning cab experience of mine I had rated five star. I should have reserved that rating to the present one and given only four to the morning cab whose upholstery was of poor quality. This trip has been in a better cab, by a more interesting driver and a hundred thirty rupees cheaper. They should give us scope for seven star ratings to meet a situation I now find myself in.
After driving me for over an hour on the hot mid day in his cab, he asked if I had had my food before commencing the journey. The words made a soothing impact. I asked if he would have food after dropping me at my destination. “Yes”, he said. “Where?” I asked. “At any appropriate eating place that served what I liked”, he said. “How much do you spend on food?” I asked. He liked two idlis for breakfast, if he had it before ten; otherwise it is a piece of bread with tea. The lunch costs him fifty rupees. He goes for his favourite Ragi mudda. Occasionally he adds to it an omelette when it costs ten rupees more. Ragi mudda made him feel cool throughout the day, he said. His austere living style surely had shaped his persona. He looked cool and cheerful. He could always afford a more expensive meal, his sense of discrimination, however, made him opt for what was essential for him. It was a learning experience.
The morning cab experience of mine I had rated five star. I should have reserved that rating to the present one and given only four to the morning cab whose upholstery was of poor quality. This trip has been in a better cab, by a more interesting driver and a hundred thirty rupees cheaper. They should give us scope for seven star ratings to meet a situation I now find myself in.
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