Black & Yellow Chronicles – 1

Posted on | May 25, 2009 | Comments

(After many moons, I enjoyed an extremely interesting conversation with a Mumbai cabby. In a freewheeling chat that lasted over 1.5 hours, the man enlightened me on a variety of subjects. It will take more than one post to do full justice to what transpired. For the sake of accuracy and flavor, some un-parliamentary language has been retained.)

I have to thank my driver for taking four days off.
It was late afternoon on a Saturday.
After a good chat with my colleague, I stepped out of the hotel and walked down to the cab stand.
I know that cab stand well.
The cabbies there are famous for demanding ridiculous rates simply because they operate from outside a five star hotel.
And I cannot claim to be a good negotiator.
I was looking for a new cab, preferably an air-conditioned one.
It was not to be my day – there were three ancient black & yellow ones, not a single new one.

(Ever since my near-death experience few years back, I have developed this phobia of old Mumbai cabs. I strongly suspect they will come come apart on their own at 40kmph.)

“350 rupees for Deonar. Fixed rate.”
“That’s too much.”
“I have been waiting since morning for a passenger. Why do you want to take away a poor man’s daily wage?”
“I only want to go as far as Deonar, not Lucknow.”
“100 rupees more is nothing for you sir. But I have to work really hard for my money.”
“You think I don’t have to work hard for my money?”

A brief argument later, I agreed and we took off.
The cabby looked like he was from UP or Bihar – most cabbies in Mumbai are.
So I asked him.

“I am from Jaunpur sir. And you?”
“Lucknow.”
“Lucknow? Ha! I knew it by the way you spoke! You are a good man sir. Not like the stingy chu***as who blow up thousands in the hotel, but sweat when a cabby asks for a 100 rupees extra.”
“This is your own cab?”
“Yes sir, have had it since 1989.”
“Isn’t there a law against driving old cabs this old?”
“There is one that says you can’t drive a cab older than 25 years in Mumbai. So I can pull this one for 5 more years,” he grinned.
“You could go for the Nano. It’s cheaper and nicer too.”
“Nano is a dabba (disaster).”
“Why?”
“Put four passengers with their luggage in it and run it on Mumbai roads, then watch it come apart.”
“But won’t you save more money if you buy a new car? This must be guzzling fuel.”
“Who told you that? It is cheaper to run this 20 year old cab than a Nano.”

(No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to fathom how that wreck could be more economical than a spanking new Nano.)

“You are from Lucknow sir. So I will tell you the truth.”
“See, our association has a setting with everyone. Cops, lawyers, insurance agents, RTO, brokers, mechanics, etc, etc.
If my cab has an accident, the association organizes insurance quickly. If there is a cop problem, the association sorts it out for me. Likewise our association also has a setting with some mechanics.
If my cab engine needs to be replaced, I go to the mechanic. He replaces my engine with another old engine, scrapes off the chassis number of that engine and replaces it with the chassis number of my old engine.
All done for 8-9 thousand rupees. No RTO problem also!
But the Nano has a rear-mounted engine.
In Mumbai someone will ram me from behind every 2 days and I will have to get the engine replaced.
Now tell me, which bhen**od mechanic in Mumbai will replace a Nano engine for 9000 rupees?”

The future of the Nano lay shattered.
With the pieces strewn across the Kalina-Sion connecting road.

I wonder how Ratan Tata would have responded to such rhetoric.
It was in-arguably the most simplistic argument I had heard in a while.
I was just about digesting what I had heard when he spoke up again.

“I don’t think doctors are as har**mi as people make them out to be.”

(To be continued)