Conversation With An Autorickshaw Driver

Conversation With An Autorickshaw Driver

“Sir, I have just three desires – I want to visit Goa, The Golden Temple in Amritsar and the Wagah border. I don't know when these will get fulfilled,” he said with a sense of despondency. I silently compared my context with his. I am regularly on a flight and visiting various destinations for work and vacation with family. It seems so normal to do so. When it comes to human emotions, the theory of relativity, though based on a strong scientific foundation, at times seems cruel.

“Santacruz airport”, I told the autorickshaw driver, placed my bags and took customary position. I was headed towards one more of my trips outside Mumbai to conduct a motivational session. I sat inside without any expectations that went beyond reaching the airport on time to catch my flight to Goa.

I normally reach the airport much earlier than required to budget for any traffic hiccups and give myself a chance to get an aisle seat on the flight. But today I was running late and was worried about reaching the airport on time as I also had to navigate through peak-time Mumbai traffic. I urged the driver to speed up. He assured me we would reach on time.

As another seemingly innocuous journey navigated itself through expected traffic congestion at Chembur and Sion, the driver, having overheard a conversation I had on the phone, asked whether I was headed towards Goa. “How much time does it take to get to Goa?,” he asked. “About an hour or so,” I said. “That's it,?” he asked in disbelief. “Train takes much longer,” I said.

He enquired about the various airlines in India. As I urged him to speed up, he asked: “What time is your flight?” “11.45,” I said. “Then there is a lot of time.” “But I have to reach an hour earlier,” I said, realising he did not know the nuances of the airport check-in, security and boarding processes.

As he skilfully waded through the crowded streets of Mumbai, the driver asked what I did for a living. “I am a teacher – I conduct training programs for corporates and others.” That got him excited and asked how he could improve his English. “I can read, but can't speak too well.” “Read Times Of India everyday and watch NDTV news channel for sometime. And buy an English to Marathi dictionary,” I advised. Before that, I advised him to attend an English speaking course, but he found my newspaper and related suggestion more financially viable. The driver, with two children, was obviously keen on improving himself.

“Sir, I have just three desires – I want to visit Goa, The Golden Temple in Amritsar and the Wagah border. I don't know when these will get fulfilled,” he said with a sense of despondency. I silently compared my context with his. I am regularly on a flight and visiting various destinations for work and vacation with family. It seems so normal to do so – plan an annual vacation, explore new places for work and holiday. But here was a man who lives not too far from where I do have a dream of just visiting a few places in India, which at the moment seems almost improbable. Stuff that we take for granted are big dreams for many others. When it comes to human emotions, the theory of relativity, though based on a strong scientific foundation, at times seems cruel.

As we neared the airport – he had got me there well on time – I showed him the building that towered over the Mumbai skyline. I told him it was the Air Traffic Control (ATC) building, which acted as the `traffic police in the air`. “I come here so often, but nobody explained to me what it was. I thought it was the Sahara Star hotel building,” he said, with the enthusiasm of a student who had just discovered a mathematical formula.

As the auto halted and I disembarked, I thanked him and headed towards the departure terminal, feeling enriched by the conversation and also grateful for all the wonderful things God had bestowed on me. Truly, dreams too have layers and are absolutely relative – what is routine for someone is a dream for someone else. That's life I guess!