Wednesday, April 29, 2009

About Ahmed. The Autowala.

Ahmed is the resultant of an interesting socio-economic equation. Just like the rest of us. But before I tell you his tale. Imagine this scenario:

You open the door in the morning and your milkman goes "What took you so long?". Your plumber says "merci beaucoup" when you pay him. Your maid takes a break from sweeping and asks you to change the TV channel to Zee Cafe so that she can watch 'Friends'. As you walk down the street, a roadside cafe owner greets his regular customer with a 'wassup' and a high-five.

Too far fetched?

Literacy rates are quite high in cities. You don't need a census to tell you that. Go to the nearest slum at 0730 in the morning. The stream of kids in stark white uniforms and jet black shoes is all the proof you need. Evidently, the afore-mentioned essential service providers, although several notches below your income level, don't, for a second wish their children to follow in their footsteps. They see you and your kids everyday. Possibly for years. They know the quality of life an education can provide. And so, except for the rare under-age kid you employ to wash your utensils, almost all her friends go to school. They keep progressing up the grades until one day, their family needs them to go to work. And at that point, their education stops. So what is the resultant of this equation. Where do these kids go?

Ok... I will stop the monologue and proceed with my anecdote.

[Author's Note: All the dialogues below are completely verbatim. I spent that night in the train recalling and typing up the words as they were spoken into my mobile so that I could post them here with accuracy.]

ACT 1.....

I am on the way to a railway station. It is 6:40pm. I reach the main road and flag down an autorickshaw.
Rahul: Nampally aate?

Autowala: Baitho.
I get into the auto.
Autowala: Meter pe Rs 5 extra de do.
I immediately make a movement as to get off and say: Arey yaar! Side kardo bhai. Kaiko extra lete.
Autowala: Arey! Baitho boss. Nhi dena toh nhi dete bolo na bas. Itna rudely kaiko ja rahe ho. Autowale aadmi nhi hote kya.
I am taken aback slightly by his usage of 'rudely'. I takes me a few seconds to retort back.
Rahul: Toh hum aadmi nhi hain kya. Paisa pedh pe nhi ugte bhai. Jaldi mein tha, isliye utar raha tha.

The autowala remains silent.


ACT 2.....

I open my bag and absent-mindedly check for my train ticket. I am still thinking about the fact that an autowala just said the word 'rudely'. In english. Meanwhile, the autowala stops at a paan shop to buy supari. Getting out, he turns towards me and smiles.
Autowala: Late toh nhi ho rahe na?

Interesting. An autowala with a sarcastic sense of humour. I just smile back.
He comes back shortly and the auto starts again.


ACT 3....

[The autowala is giving me some gyaan about mobile ambulances in hyd and how 10th pass guys are nurses in them. Suddenly he becomes pensive.]
Autowala - Mai bhi inter 2nd yr passed hun. I also passed Intermediate 2nd year. [Long pause] Kuch bhi naukri nhi mila toh auto chala raha hun.
Aha!! That explains how he used the word 'rudely' with such obvious ease.
Rahul: wahi laga tha mujhe.
[Long pause]
Rahul: You can work as an accountant at office ya aise kuch na?
Auto turns back toward me and stares.
Autowala: Aise hi ghurte hain log. 12th pass is not sufficient. waise... mai subah lunch karta hun aur raat tak auto chalata hun. 500 per day banata hun apart from oil and rent money. Around 15-16000 per month. Aur city bhi ghoomne ko milta hai.
Rahul: Abhi toh aapko chalega. But family hai toh difficult hoga na.
Autowala smiles mischievously.
Autowala: Do I look like an unmarried man?

It is one of those rare moments when I am at a loss for words.
Autowala: I have 3 children.
He turns, looks at my shocked expression and translates that into hindi. Just in case i didn't get it.
Autowala: Teen bacche hain mere. I'm 34 years old.

Rahul: What is your name?
Autowala: Ahmed Sharif.
Rahul: Ahmed, you look like you're 28 years old.
Ahmed: Still handsome right? My wife also say this.
Ahmed grins widely. He starts to tell me about his eldest son. We've reached our destination but he has forgotten. I am in a hurry. My train leaves in 5 minutes. I ask him to stop. The meter says Rs 66. I give him Rs 70.
Rahul: Ahmed, aaj jaldi mein hun. Nhi toh cafe mein baitke tum aur mai bate karte nai?
I meant it completely. Ahmed was an interesting man worth knowing. Ahmed smiles, graciously takes the money and starts to count it.

It is high-time for me to run for my train. But I hesitate. I want to tell him that he is qualified for a better job. I want to tell him a man like him can strive for a better place in society.

Ahmed finishes his counting and looks at me. He smiles. I think he read my mind. He said something that struck a chord deep inside me.

Ahmed Sharif, the Autowala says to me, "It is never a question of money or status in society. Ego. If a man has his ego, he can do any job."

And with that punchline, one of the many
resultants of our socio-economic equation, starts his auto and heads out into the city of pearls..... Hyderabad.

So... You still think that scenario is far fetched?

1 comment:

  1. mama; had a similar incident; almost the same;
    only difference; is he started suggesting me not to marry till i earn some money; "look i am working in sundays also"

    ReplyDelete