The Auto Rickshaw - A True Story

After a long time, I had the chance of returning back from office by Public Transport yesterday. I am not a big fan of Public Transport in India because for the obvious reasons....cramped seating....stinking sweat streaked bodies....people stomping your toes in disdain....... I have had a very hectic week this week and as usual was leaving office around 8:30 in the night yesterday. I had a thought I will take one of the new mini buss's plying their trade as public transport these days. By mini buss's I meant the breed of Tata Magic/Tata Ace/Mahindra....etc

I had never sat in one of them and their numbers had exponential grown over the past year to an extent that erstwhile auto stands have now been renamed as mini bus stands now all over Chennai. I walked to the nearest square near my office and started waiting for my transport. Almost immediately came a shared auto followed by a Tata Ace. I noticed that the shared auto had no occupants while the Ace was comparatively full. However everyone waiting on the road clambered for the Ace while the auto just stood there. The auto driver was crying himself hoarse, but no one cared to hear him. The Ace soon left with its belly full, leaving the road empty with just me, the tri-legged auto and the forlorn auto driver. 

The auto driver lit a beedi and just stared blankly ahead. He noticed me looking at him and gave me a big smile. I don't know how he realized I was not a fish of these parts but he said in broken hindi, "Saheb, Auto" I had been waiting for the next mini bus  to come up but what the heck, I was tired and it was a ride of barely 15 minutes to my home. I replied, "haan auto". The driver threw the half smoked beedi and had a triumphant smile on his face. I sat in the auto and the auto tuk tuk'd away, but not before the driver switched on the FM radio blasting the Kolaveridi song. I was curious as this was the first time, I had heard an auto driver speak in hindi in Chennai. I asked him how he spoke hindi...Pat came the reply, so many outsiders are living in Chennai, we are bound to learn the language now....I smiled at his honest endeavor to learn hindi...

The auto driver turned the volume low and said, "Saheb, mera naam Balu aur ek baat bolun"...I said, "Haan bhaiya"...Here begins my story...

With a hint of sadness in his voice, the man named Balu said, "No one sits in my auto now"... I did not understand him and looked at him quizzically. He continued, "Now everyone sits in the mini busses and no one looks at us autos rickshaws. I hate these mini buss's. We had thought they would not be popular with passengers and auto rickshaws would still rule the roost as we had done over the last 20 years. But it did not work out, that way; Lord Muruga had a different plan". After this, I heard him sob. I was feeling uncomfortable, looking at this middle aged man sobbing. I simply could not understand what I should say to my new friend, Balu. Fortunately for me, Balu, stopped sobbing and continued, "I used to ride a rented rickshaw for the last 12 years and finally saved enough money to pay for the down payment  of my own rickshaw, by the grace of Lord Muruga. I was so happy, now I need not pay all my hard earned money as rent to the auto rickshaw owner. My daughters would go to school too, like the group of kindergarten girls I transported every day to school from T. Nagar. I would pay off the loan for my auto rickshaw in another 4 years, and then the auto will be completely mine. I earned good money, in the initial years, then last year the mini busses came prowling on the roads. I used to make fun at those four legged mini buss's. Then one day, the parents of the little girls I transported every day, came up to me and said, that the auto rickshaw is not safe and they would prefer their little ones go by the little mini bus." Balu felt aghast. How could they say it was unsafe? "But, Thambi, I ride very slowly as I care about the little children. My auto rickshaw is very safe", pleaded Balu. All his cries fell on deaf ears. One of the little girls who was with the parents came up to Balu and said to him, "Balu, why don't you buy a mini bus, we will go with you to school then". Balu felt offended, even the little ones felt that his auto was no longer safe. Nursing a heavy heart, Balu returned home that day.

Balu, stopped taking his auto out for the next couple of days, and just whilled away his time at home. He was feeling a sense of anger, towards everyone. Then after two full days, reality dawned on him, when his wife said, there was no money for vegetables at home. That night, Balu felt guilty as he was felt he was cheating on his own family by not driving his auto rickshaw. Sleep eluded him the whole night and well past the witching hour, he tossed and turned on the bed until he got an idea. The sleep which had been playing hide and seek finally returned and he slept pondering over his plan.

The next day, Balu woke up and made a beeline to the local moneylender’s home. Yes, in Chennai, you have moneylenders and mortgage shops in each and every corner of the city. Balu, without telling his family, took a loan of Rs. 10,000. Although feeling apprehensive because of the exorbitant rates of interest, he felt confident that he would be able to pay back the loan in another 6 months.

Balu took his dear auto rickshaw to the pond nearby his house and cleaned his auto in the same way a mahout bathes his elephant, because just like an elephant is like a child to its mahout, the auto was to Balu. After cleaning his auto, he went to an auto garage as per his plan. He decided to purchase new foam lined seats along with new flowered seat covers so that his passengers would not feel the hardness of the seat. He spent money on a stereo system, so that his passengers would be able to listen to songs while being transported. He ordered for a new coat of bright yellow paint for his auto. He splurged on mirrors so that lady passengers would be able to comb their hairs while travelling in his auto. After spending all of the 10,000 bucks he had got from the moneylender, he felt happy. He thought he had hit on a master stroke, his auto rickshaw looked brand new, comfortable and inviting. Let me see, how the mini buss's lure away my passengers now, that’s what he thought.

A week passed before the garage called him to take possession of his now new auto rickshaw.  Balu felt proud as he saw his friends at the auto stand near the local railway station gape at his canary colored, shining auto. How beautiful his auto must be looking to the eyes of the beholders. Balu acted nonchalant with his friends as all of them waited for the first train of the day to arrive at the local railway station. The train came chugging along and out came from the stations belly a swarm of people heading towards their offices and their chores. Balu and his auto rickshaw driver friends called out eagerly, expectantly, to the passengers, but they seemed to be not hearing their words. The passengers all walked to the mini bus stand and got into the mini busses.

Balu stood in a stunned silence. His beautiful canary colored auto was standing there, empty.

Now 6 months have passed, and Balu is taking me home from office.  The money lender is after him for the unpaid money he owes. The bank has sent him a notice that they will take away the auto rickshaw. The school has kicked out his daughters for non-payment of school fees. The night is closing out fast and he has earned barely enough to sustain his family for another day. He is silent after telling me all this. The silence is pierced as my mobile rings and Green Day shrieks, “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”

This is a true story which happened to me late last night