Three-wheeler rides

Auto drivers are a class by themselves. They range from philosophers to thieves!

A couple of decades ago in Bangalore, if I had to go somewhere   and needed an auto, I had to hunt for one armed with a prayer and a lot of luck. But now when I step out, I have to jump back to avoid an auto running over my toes. Quite often they are empty, too.

I love these little vehicles that are capable of doing wonders when it comes to making turns at narrow spots or worming themselves between all other vehicles amidst traffic-choked roads. I would even choose it over the car; it is easy to get in and out, totally hassle-free, the ride raunchy and the view three-sided. Altogether an entertaining experience!

Then again, the drivers of these three-wheelers are a class by themselves. They range from philosophers to thieves. There was that time when my sister and I hired an auto to go to Vidyarthi Bhavan to eat the famous dosa. Upon reaching there, we found that it was their weekly closed day. The driver who couldn’t bear to see our disappointment turned around and decided to take us to another hotel for dosa. He paid no attention to our protests!

Though I would like to think all drivers are nice and honest, I hit a rotten apple once. I had to take an auto to my tailors’ to give some blouses for stitching. As it looked like it would rain, I carried a nice umbrella that my sister-in-law had got me from Singapore, and when I got into the auto, I put it by my side. I asked the auto driver if he would wait for me until I returned from the tailors’ after placing my order, for a considerable waiting charge. He agreed readily enough and off we went.

Once at the tailors’, I got out hurriedly and assured him I would not be long. My job done, I got into the auto and he started driving. Pretty soon I began looking for my umbrella. “Where did it go?” I wondered aloud and asked the driver if he had seen it. “I saw it when you got in with the umbrella but I don’t know where it went. You must have taken it into the tailor’s store and forgotten it there.” He said this without turning around and started to drive back fast.

My anger began to boil but my helplessness showed me I was getting nowhere. So I thought surmised that he is taking advantage of my age. “You must have forgotten it there, at the tailor’s. Try to remember if you took it with you.” He pressed the point to make it sound like he was right.

When we reached the corner of our street, I asked him to stop the auto. “This is where I get off,” I said calmly with a smile.” I got off and walked away without looking back. If he was screaming and yelling for his fare, I turned a deaf ear. And believe me, it was not a hard thing to do either!