Aren't Our Rickshaw Walas The Richest Community After All?

Rickshaw walas are undoubtedly one of the richest communities in Mumbai. A businessman is constantly looking for clients, a shopkeeper tries his best to sell the product, and brands spend millions in advertising and marketing to get a boost in sale and market share. But not our rickshaw walas! They are least perturbed. They work according to their whims and fancies.

Heavy downpour, innumerable mini lakes and ponds on the roads and a throng of commuters wrestling with their umbrellas and running behind every single empty auto asking if he would be kind enough to drop them to their desired destination. But it only takes a second for that auto driver to say no and take his empty auto on an indefinite voyage.

It seems to me that our helplessness is a kind of sadist amusement for these auto drivers. They wander the streets and with their vacant autos waving their rejection on our faces. This happened with me today. I had to go to the Post Office and I asked this rickshaw wala if he would take me there. He said, “nahi madam, aage bohot traffic hai. Abhi nahi jayega.” Considering how firm they are to their word I moved on in the deluge seeking many more rebuffs.

After a while I saw this same fellow roving round and round generously snubbing everyone giving the same excuse he gave me. The only sane inference I could come up with after this was that they are all god damned critters. And of course bloody rich.

Only a rickshw wala, in Mumbai, can say no to business. He would rather sit in a corner with a cutting, music blasting in his “office” chatting away with others of his kind. Every now and then they make their way into the news demanding hike in fare or they would go on a strike. Aren't they always on some sort of a virtual strike? Whether they are on strike or not, the scene is not very uncommon for the commuters. The only thing that changes is the upshot the hyped strike has on our pockets.

I’m being a pessimist here but I do not envision any recuperation in this condition any time soon. There is always a huge chunk of people standing at the stands waiting for an auto. And then there is this other chunk of people who are mostly headed in the same direction on their bikes or cars. They say Mumbai is spirited and helpful and full of life. This may be true in case of a disaster but not always. Those people on bikes and cars can always offer a lift to the other chunk. Sadly, that never happens.

The battle continues. Sometimes you are lucky. Most of the times, you are not.

Vasai Turns VaSEA

I slowly opened my eyes to check my cell phone. No, not for the silly forwards but to check the time. As soon I pressed the button and saw the time, my half close eyes were wide open and I jumped out of my bed like a ninja. Sh*t! I was late! Not losing the ninja spirit, I rushed through the process of getting ready.

It was pouring outside. And I had this indecisive urge in me to bunk the lecture. Just when I was about to execute the thought, my mom very innocently stated that one word which scares the hell out of every student. It is the devil’s word in a student’s life. “What about your attendance?” and that was it. The image of the black list popped right in front of my eyes and heartbroken I toddled out of the house.

It was pouring unremittingly since yesterday. Vasai had become VaSEA overnight. The monster of water had drunk the entire residential sector. There were no rickshaws and unlike always, there were very few people on the road. They were obviously sleeping. Why would anyone wake up at 7 on a Sunday morning? Unless he/she is a BMM student. In that case anything can happen.

I was in no mood to put my feet in that dirty gutter ka pani so i decided to walk back. Just then out of nowhere a rickshaw came and stood right in front of me and the rickshaw wala very chivalrously asked, “Station jane ka hai?” it never happens on other days when I am running late and desperately in the need to rush to the station. But today it happened. With the hope to catch the desired train, I hopped in.

Dashing through the water and fighting the fake waves, the rickshaw slowly made its way ahead and dropped me to the station just in time. My happiness knew no bounds. I managed to reach the station on time in spite of the water and the rains. I would be able to catch the train I want. I wouldn’t be late. Thrillingly I ascended the stairs of the bridge and just when I touched up, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I took it out to see a message from the CR.

The much-adored-professor cancelled the lecture. It was as if the whole world around me had come to a halt. The word ‘cancelled’ stuck out. I was devastated. Why? Why? WHY??? For a moment I forgot where was I standing and my instant reaction was I looked up and said this out loud “Dude, was this your idea of some sick joke?” and it doesn’t end there. I kept staring up for 5 seconds as if I was ever going to get a reply. But all I could see was a blackish roof swathed with spider webs. Subsequently I looked straight in front of me and saw a cute guy staring at me and then looking up wondering whom was I talking to. Embarrassment happened. I looked at him and smiled sheepishly.

To avoid more embarrassment I tottered away and feeling like a complete idiot. Helpless I crossed the station from west to east, took a rickshaw and came home. Not to mention I wasted 20 bucks in this whole process. Don’t you give me that look now! Even if the world economy is doing exceptionally well, a student is always facing recession. And in crisis like these 20 bucks getting washed away is not a happy prospect.

I reached home and as soon as I entered my bedroom I saw my sister sleeping. In my last post I very finely told you how she looks when she sleeps. If you haven’t read it then do it now. Just the one below this. Go. go. Read. And by the time you read that, I’ll go complete my quota of sleep.