The Autowallah

Around 4 years back, when I was in 11th grade, I used to go for these coaching classes in Indiranagar.
You see, in India it is a customary thing to join a coaching centre at least once in your life,because (surprise! surprise!) apparently you need a school after regular school to help you get into another kind of school after 12th.
(Makes you wonder what the point of school is, if we aren't learning what we should be to get into colleges, no?)
So like all other parents, my parents too decided to put me into a coaching institute so that I can get into  college of my choice with ease.
 No, it wasn't ACE/BASE or any of those other conventional institutes. Hell, it wasn't even a coaching institute for engineering/medical entrance exams.
It was DQ Labs. And it was a coaching centre for NIFT.

That's right. NIFT.

You see, unlike most stereotypical parents who feel like their life dreams are shattered when their child tells them he/she wants to do something unusual, mine decided to do whatever it takes to make sure I could do my best. And so, they put me in a coaching centre.
Now from where I live, Indiranagar is a pretty far place and knowing Bangalore, there's always an insane amount of traffic. So travel was always a little difficult, but we managed. Sometimes I would go by bus, sometimes dad would drop me and sometimes my friends would drop me.

But there's this one day I still remember. The one day, where I learnt a little lesson that would stick with me for the rest of my life.

I had just finished with my classes and was waiting for the bus that would take me home. It was already 7:30 pm and back then, I was "too young" to be out alone "in the dark" in a place so "far away" from home. My mother called me to ask me where I was and I told her I was waiting for the bus. Being a typical worrying mother, she told me to stop waiting and just take an auto and come home as soon as possible.

So I went looking for an auto to take me home. For those of you who haven't had prior experience of hiring an auto in Bangalore, you should know that auto-wallah's always have the last word. If they choose to take you to your destination without any arguments it's like you've won some kind of a battle.
I went around searching and finally found an auto-wallah who graciously agreed to drop me home while also going by the meter.

We traveled a few kilometers and stopped at a signal, when the auto-wallah casually turns back at me and says, "Aaj toh bohot traffic hai na madam?"
 For some reason I panic. I'm not used to having auto-wallah's talking to me while I travel, and instinctively I can hear the voices of my mother and my kindergarten teacher saying "Don't talk to strangers, Mriganka".
So I pretended like I never heard him. The signal light turned green and we continued our journey.
I was so happy to have moved past that awkward situation but I spoke to soon.
Almost immediately, he turned around again and asked me "Aap college student ho?"

I cautiously replied with a simple "No."

He then began telling me about his own daughter and proudly mentioned that she also goes to school and was, in fact a very intelligent student. I gave him an awkward smile. Although, I felt like he was just cooking up some story.
We were just a few kilometers away from home, when he suddenly took a diversion from the regular route.
A dozen alarms went off inside my head. Shit, I thought to myself. Something bad is going to happen.
But I couldn't let him know I was scared. No, that would only make things worse.
I yelled at him an said "Bhaiya aap kidhar jaa rahe ho?" and he told me that he was just taking a diversion to avoid more traffic so that I could reach home faster.

"Aapki mummy chinta kar rahi hogi. Already do baar call aa chuka hai." he said.

I still felt like something was fishy, so I very smartly told him "Wapas main road pe jao warna paise nahi doongi."

He turned back, looked at me and went back to the route via the main road.
And of course, as predicted, we got struck in more traffic.

After 1.5 hours, we finally reached my apartment and I got down and pulled out my wallet to pay him. Just went I extended my arm to hand him the hundred rupees, he looks at me and says - "Rakh lo madam, nai chahiye."
Obviously, I was surprised so I asked him what happened and he said - "Madam, hum auto-walleh bhi insan hi hote hain. Hum aapko darana nai chahte. Aap toh meri beti jaise ho, mai toh sirf aapko jaldi ghar pohochana chahta tha par pata nai aapko kya laga"

Which when translated to English means- Ma'am we auto-drivers are also humans. We don't mean to scare you. You are like my daughter and I just wanted you to reach home quickly".

I felt so terribly guilty. My judgmental mind got the better of me and made me jump to conclusions.

He went on to give me his number and say that if I ever needed to be dropped home from class again and I couldn't find any other auto, he would come and pick me up.

You know, of all nice things any person has ever done for me, this was one thing that I'd always remember. He did, in fact drop me home after classes thereafter. And he would still tell me stories about his daughter and laugh at how similar the two of us girls are.

You know, it's strange. All those "moral science" classes, all those kindergarten rhymes about good manners- none of them taught me how to let go of my ego and speak to every human as an equal.

The auto-wallah taught me that.