"Do you know how to drive a car?" he asked me. He being my husband. After recalling a not so pleasant experience of thudding my father's precious old Maruti 800 into an auto-rickshaw from behind on a busy Chandigarh roundabout, I answered, "Oh yes! provided the road is fairly empty!!". Chuckling, he suggested "Traffic in Bellevue is tamed, lacking the unpredictability of Indian drivers. So, you can get confident on this front quickly. It's kind of necessary here". With the angry eyes of that auto-rickshaw driver, who had turned back to scowl at me, still haunting me, I was nothing but reluctant. "Why necessary?" I lamented. But with time I got my answer.
Public transport here is not as fortunate as in India. Bellevue not being big and busy lacks local trains. Very less often do I see taxis here which they call yellow cabs driven by Sardarjis. One evening we were going out to some place and I was looking out of the window into the void. I realized that something else and important was also missing on these roads. After having identified it, I immediately turned to him.
"All this time that I have been here, I have never really seen a bus!! what do the buses of this land look like? I haven't noticed a bus stop either!!". Surprised to hear this, he informed me that buses do exist but are not frequent enough. And bus stops can be identified by a single pole standing alone somewhere in the middle of a footpath holding a boring information board. This board informs commuters about the numbers of buses that stop there and the times at which they like to stop there. Some lucky bus stops have a shed with benches below them. On hearing this, I began to keep a keen lookout for bus stops and buses! I did not have to wait for long and soon spotted my first bus!
I was out for a walk one day and hello it was there! Standing right outside my society on a bus stop, and one of the lucky bus stops it was! The bus was dark green in color with yellow parking lights flashing all around it and LEDs flashing on top of it, listing its destinations.It was much like the new AC buses of Delhi except that it had a cycle stand fitted outside in front of it below the driver seat's level. A girl was loading her cycle onto it. I have seen buses of course, but this experience of seeing a bus was thrilling like never before!! After realizing that my mouth had been open in awe for a long time, I called up my husband to tell him about it for the thrill was difficult to contain! It seemed that even he was unaware of an alive bus-stand just outside our home! So in the evening we surveyed it. We checked out the frequency, and it was evident that these cycle carrying buses did not like travelling much, with the least waiting time being half an hour!
American love for travelling by cars is widely known, due to their well developed roadways, which is the backbone of their economy. But this country does lack a few good thrifty pleasures of life that Indians experience daily. Rickshaws, Auto-rickshaws, tempos, tuk-tuks, 'jugaad' are some of them! The experience of a three-wheeler in India is such that no other foreign land can provide! One has to just step out in a street to spot them. It is a sight to see such tiny little rides zig-zagging their way through speeding traffic, carrying heavy-bottomed Auntijis (Aunts) to sabzi-mandis (farmer's market) or child-lings to schools. Wholeheartedly and colorfully decorated by their drivers, they carry cleverly creative one-liners like "dekho magar pyaar se" (look but with love) on their backs to ward off evil!!! Deceptive are their fragile appearances, for they boldly carry heavy load without falling apart on the bumpy roads! Overburdened, they still dare to take in more people, as if silently challenging other three-wheeler besides them. When it comes to accommodating a lot of people, none can accommodate like Indians do! Their passengers coming from all walks of life share a common ride for a brief interval. Their meters are like human appendices, non-functioning organs! Each ride is different and can develop into an experience interesting enough to be told and retold a number of times!
I had mine too. In Hyderabad once, I along with 5 other girls decided to share an auto-rickshaw to office due to their reduced frequency. Four sat in the back and two in the front with the driver. Such accommodation was common, provided no police was patrolling the area. But females sitting in front with the driver was utterly uncommon!! It was a first for us too. The comical rarity of this ride became all the more evident when we stopped at a red light on a traffic signal.There was an auto to the left of us and an auto to the right of us. Well, there were auto-rickshaws all around us! All similarly jam-packed! But ours stood out. The male office-goers noticed us and started giggling, for they had just now witnessed a funny yet bold sight, to start off their boring daily routines with a smile! We could not control our laughter too!!! The other auto drivers gave silent naughty smiles to our poor driver, who was embarrassed, and was looking down and smiling to himself. Such was a rare public display of female empowerment that day!
Talking of female empowerment, why I had not become an expert driver yet? I asked myself. Because my father, my father's driver and the ever available public transport of India carried me in their vehicles wherever I wanted them to carry me, I answered myself. Learning to drive was just a luxury to me, which I avoided fearing the craziest traffic on earth. But an incident here with my husband made me realize that it was no more a luxury but a necessity! He cut his finger while opening a can. Judging by the amount of blood flow, we decided to go to hospital. But as he had hurt his right hand, driving was impossible. He asked me 'Tell me, can you drive me to hospital confidently? remember its right-handed out here'. "No", I said wishing that I could say otherwise. He called his friend instead of an ambulance for it wasn't necessary enough for a finger cut.
That was the day when I wished there was a group of auto-rickshaws huddled in my street, hunting for passengers, readily agreeing to rush in emergency. That was the day when I put driving as my number one priority. Since then, I am practicing driving with my husband teaching me happily. My father has cautioned his son-in-law "Careful! She does not like pressing brake, in fact she never presses it!!!".
Public transport here is not as fortunate as in India. Bellevue not being big and busy lacks local trains. Very less often do I see taxis here which they call yellow cabs driven by Sardarjis. One evening we were going out to some place and I was looking out of the window into the void. I realized that something else and important was also missing on these roads. After having identified it, I immediately turned to him.
"All this time that I have been here, I have never really seen a bus!! what do the buses of this land look like? I haven't noticed a bus stop either!!". Surprised to hear this, he informed me that buses do exist but are not frequent enough. And bus stops can be identified by a single pole standing alone somewhere in the middle of a footpath holding a boring information board. This board informs commuters about the numbers of buses that stop there and the times at which they like to stop there. Some lucky bus stops have a shed with benches below them. On hearing this, I began to keep a keen lookout for bus stops and buses! I did not have to wait for long and soon spotted my first bus!
I was out for a walk one day and hello it was there! Standing right outside my society on a bus stop, and one of the lucky bus stops it was! The bus was dark green in color with yellow parking lights flashing all around it and LEDs flashing on top of it, listing its destinations.It was much like the new AC buses of Delhi except that it had a cycle stand fitted outside in front of it below the driver seat's level. A girl was loading her cycle onto it. I have seen buses of course, but this experience of seeing a bus was thrilling like never before!! After realizing that my mouth had been open in awe for a long time, I called up my husband to tell him about it for the thrill was difficult to contain! It seemed that even he was unaware of an alive bus-stand just outside our home! So in the evening we surveyed it. We checked out the frequency, and it was evident that these cycle carrying buses did not like travelling much, with the least waiting time being half an hour!
American love for travelling by cars is widely known, due to their well developed roadways, which is the backbone of their economy. But this country does lack a few good thrifty pleasures of life that Indians experience daily. Rickshaws, Auto-rickshaws, tempos, tuk-tuks, 'jugaad' are some of them! The experience of a three-wheeler in India is such that no other foreign land can provide! One has to just step out in a street to spot them. It is a sight to see such tiny little rides zig-zagging their way through speeding traffic, carrying heavy-bottomed Auntijis (Aunts) to sabzi-mandis (farmer's market) or child-lings to schools. Wholeheartedly and colorfully decorated by their drivers, they carry cleverly creative one-liners like "dekho magar pyaar se" (look but with love) on their backs to ward off evil!!! Deceptive are their fragile appearances, for they boldly carry heavy load without falling apart on the bumpy roads! Overburdened, they still dare to take in more people, as if silently challenging other three-wheeler besides them. When it comes to accommodating a lot of people, none can accommodate like Indians do! Their passengers coming from all walks of life share a common ride for a brief interval. Their meters are like human appendices, non-functioning organs! Each ride is different and can develop into an experience interesting enough to be told and retold a number of times!
I had mine too. In Hyderabad once, I along with 5 other girls decided to share an auto-rickshaw to office due to their reduced frequency. Four sat in the back and two in the front with the driver. Such accommodation was common, provided no police was patrolling the area. But females sitting in front with the driver was utterly uncommon!! It was a first for us too. The comical rarity of this ride became all the more evident when we stopped at a red light on a traffic signal.There was an auto to the left of us and an auto to the right of us. Well, there were auto-rickshaws all around us! All similarly jam-packed! But ours stood out. The male office-goers noticed us and started giggling, for they had just now witnessed a funny yet bold sight, to start off their boring daily routines with a smile! We could not control our laughter too!!! The other auto drivers gave silent naughty smiles to our poor driver, who was embarrassed, and was looking down and smiling to himself. Such was a rare public display of female empowerment that day!
Talking of female empowerment, why I had not become an expert driver yet? I asked myself. Because my father, my father's driver and the ever available public transport of India carried me in their vehicles wherever I wanted them to carry me, I answered myself. Learning to drive was just a luxury to me, which I avoided fearing the craziest traffic on earth. But an incident here with my husband made me realize that it was no more a luxury but a necessity! He cut his finger while opening a can. Judging by the amount of blood flow, we decided to go to hospital. But as he had hurt his right hand, driving was impossible. He asked me 'Tell me, can you drive me to hospital confidently? remember its right-handed out here'. "No", I said wishing that I could say otherwise. He called his friend instead of an ambulance for it wasn't necessary enough for a finger cut.
That was the day when I wished there was a group of auto-rickshaws huddled in my street, hunting for passengers, readily agreeing to rush in emergency. That was the day when I put driving as my number one priority. Since then, I am practicing driving with my husband teaching me happily. My father has cautioned his son-in-law "Careful! She does not like pressing brake, in fact she never presses it!!!".
In the last few months, I have been a voracious reader, swallowing almost all kind of articles relating to various things and aspects. Some of them I cursed for their poor presentation/content, some of them I appreciated, but this one is a league ahead.
ReplyDeleteThere is such a lucid continuity, clarity of ideas, beautiful narration and a sense of nostalgia and belonging, that I started missing India while sitting in my room in New Delhi!
Keep up the good work! Kudos!
Thank you for such an encouraging feedback :) I am jotting down my experiences in US and how they are different from that in India and in between I might write about other things. I did not know how readers like you would respond to it for starters but its nice to see such appreciation coming in :)
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