In Mumbai, there's lot of drama...(Part 2)

(Continued from here)

Scene#1 Take#2:

It's late on a Saturday winter afternoon in a winterless Mumbai. It is very crowded today as I drive from one point in the suburbs to another. 'When isn't it crowded?' are my thoughts as I pull into a traffic light. Trance is playing on my car music system just as I notice that I am surrounded by autorickshaws.

A face peers out of the auto stopped to my immediate right. The sweet looking girl gestures me to roll down my car window. And I think, 'Don't I know this girl? I am dreaming? This has happened to me before. Is this deja vu?' Mind races back to the last time this scene was played out. Four months back, rainy night, traffic, same gestures... 'Oh, I know what is coming. Damn...my instincts were on the dot! I am glad I did not fall for that trick last time',are my thoughts as I cut the music and roll down the window.

Looks can be deceptive. But I feel a little proud for having judged it right the first time around. I need to get this girl to understand that she cannot get away with it all the time. A meek 'Sorry!' wouldn't have the punch. I need to say it like she cannot forget it for some time. But, I cannot make a scene. If a guy shouts at a stranger-woman (by now, all the sweetness about her has metamorphosed into wiliness) who is asking for help, those around you will likely trash you verbally, or physically, before listening to your story. Then there will be lot of honking from those behind me who are not interested in seeing where this goes. The inanity of the potential chaos makes me think we'll settle it the simple way. I only need to get a point across.

So, by the time she says it, I am saying it in my mind, smile on my face 'Sir, can you please do me a favour?'. My smile widens, as I lift up my index finger and say ' Ma'am, I know what you are going to say. But you have asked me for this favour once before, remember?'. I think she does not recognize me. But, I am sure that she knows that I know. She knows that she has slipped this time. She also probably cannot believe that she has tried to trick the same guy twice. What are the odds, isn't it? There are some things money can buy, but the look on her face was priceless.

Anyway, I am glad I had recognized that confident delivery of the request the first time around. I see that confidence again, when she recovers her poise and with sufficient stoicism, responds with 'OK' and then withdraws into the auto rickshaw.


(To be continued)

In Mumbai, there's lots of drama...(Part 1)

Called by many names, Mumbai, as a film city, ensnares people's imagination like no other. Does life mimic cinema or cinema mimic life here? In the continuum of what imitates what, the answer must lie only somewhere at the center. You'll find all flavours of life on the street -romance, fantasy, adultery, violence, deceit, drama, comedy etc- as long as you care to step back and observe. When the regular Mumbaikar cannot escape the real virtuality of the city, how can a simple guy like me? Here's are a few scenes from my life in the past few months...

Scene#1 Take#1:

It's late on a rainy evening of an otherwise quiet Saturday. You might have noticed that when it has been drizzling continuously, things kind of quieten down. I am driving alone from one point in the suburbs to another, cutting across several busy junctions. Now, I am stuck at the same signal for the third time that the light changes back to red.

Just as I am cursing the traffic congestion, the autorickshaw that was , directionally speaking, hanging around my five o'clock pulls ahead to my one o'clock. A sweet face of a girl in her early twenties or late teens cranes out of the auto. Her hand gestures to me to roll down my car window. As I see her eyelashes blinking away rain drops, I wonder whether she is looking for directions. But she is in an auto and usually, it is me that goes to an auto for directions, not the other way round. Anyway, my car window hisses halfway down and I wait for her to speak.

She says,in perfect English, "Sir, can you please do me a favour?" I am all the more unsure about what to expect now. "Sir, I do not have money to pay to this autorishaw guy. Can you please give me 80 Rupees?" My mind races. Something is not right about this scenario. Her sweet voice wants me to believe this is a genuine request. Her immaculate private school educated accent tells me she must be coming from at least a middle class home. I cannot make out what she is wearing, but, someone in her position, I assume, must have a cellphone. Even if she does not have one, why doesn't she wait till she reaches her destination and arrange for money with whomever she is meeting? Maybe, she is even going home now. Either way, asking money, publicly, from a stranger, is not a smart thing to do in my opinion. Doing so exposes her vulnerability. Why is she asking me then?

A couple or three seconds pass as I consider all this. My thoughts are interrupted by her voice again, "Sir?". I have to decide whether I want to dig into my pocket or not. Would it be OK to not give her the money? 'Come on fast', I think. I go with my instincts and decide that the straight face and the confidence with which she delivered her request tells me that she is used to making such requests. Maybe she is just wanting to bill her ride on a stranger willing to help. Circumstances do not seem to be dire. So, I just shake my head and say "I am sorry!" and roll up my window. Her face disappears into the auto and I look around to check whether the light has changed. It has not.

In the background of raindrops falling on my car roof, I think about whether I did the right thing. She did seem sweet, after all.


(To be continued)