philosophical me, reflections of time

Auto-Rickshaws

First of all I got a confession to make as to why I am writing a post that is neither a review of the latest movie I had seen, the last novel I read or one of my infinitely long cribbing about my lack of any luck with the opposite gender. I never intended to write this post, all morning I was thinking of the title to my blog on the ray of hope called Salman Rushdie. Since, it does not seem remotely possible that any girl will fall for me in the near future and my firm resolve to not be the only person in my generation in my immediate family to indulge in arranged marriage, it seems I will get a girl only when I am fifty and rich and famous. The positives about such wishful thinking is that at least I will try to be rich and famous till I am fifty. It is another matter whether I get a Padma Lakshmi or not. Actually I am just trying to imitate an ostrich when I say it is another matter for my only two crushes crushed some of my best friendships I had cultivated. Of course wisdom prevailed in round two and I salvaged the wreckage to some extent.
Now that I have accomplished drawing tangents around the topic of the post, I guess its time to draw the diameter, I did not want another round of curses as I forced my net savvy friends and juniors to publicize my post and post comments.

With the confession settled I guess its time to fill the dots. For those of us who does not own a vehicle, public transport is a story of everyday life. For bachelors like me, invariably it is the auto. Having left kgp sometime back, I am now more or less settled in Hyderabad. I usually commute to and from work in an auto. My life has seen me settle down temporarily in many places from the idyllic village called rohmoria in Assam, which has since been swallowed by the Brahmaputra to the concrete jungles of Delhi, Kolkata and the island called Kharagpur. Besides, my frequent battles with my health sees me traveling to Chennai pretty frequently. All these experiences have inculcated in me a pathological suspicion towards the person who drives the rickshaw or taxi or auto. Here in Hyderabad, most autos ply by the government approved rates unlike other parts of India. But every now and then someone hikes up the price, it has the immediate effect of waking up my hibernating bargaining skills. I now usually drive a hard bargain,scream over a few rupees. Amongst all these, there is one particular auto driver who usually takes me to office when I am late, he always charges the right amount. Yesterday he was asking how much I earn and in which building I work. I felt kind of awkward, and replied I earn enough to more than comfortably feed myself. He then ask do I earn around twenty thousand. I said I earn a bit more. The conversation ended therein.

Today morning again I took an auto to my house , the auto demanded 30, I finally got it settled for 25. Probably, I will indulge in the same again. The thing is who is overpaid and who is not. What is the right price for the trip, I dont know. Till then my pathological suspicion will continue to rule my head.

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