The Cornucopia of Auto Drivers! Post 2 #MyFriendAlexa

Travelling by autos has always been a piquant exercise. In Chennai, I would get into metre-less autos and haggle my way to my destination. By the end of my journey, I would emerge, bedraggled and much the worse for wear, with a purse that was considerably lighter than before. My Tamil-speaking skills improved as I got better at describing where I wanted to go and how much I was willing to pay. The firmer the tone, the better!

When we shifted, bag and baggage to Thrissur, things changed dramatically. No longer did I have to haggle over the fare, for here, not only were the distances more manageable, but there were efficient metres that worked to perfection.

Hence, I could spend my daily drives enjoying the scenery outside, or observing the oddities of the auto drivers. The latter categories were mind-boggling, and caused me no end of entertainment.  I have tried to list them in almost alphabetical order! So, hang on to your hats, worthy folk, for here we go! 

Autorickshaw - Bandcamp

Auto drivers in all their glory!

1.      The bleater, who begins to whine about the fare even before you have parked yourself in his auto, and carries on assailing your eardrums till the very end. By which time, you are so frazzled that you quickly pay him whatever he asks for just so that you can be rid of the endless goat-like sounds.

2.      The beeper, who continuously uses his horn, a loud obnoxious creature with a mind of its own, to startle people off the road, or to make up for the lack of a suitable music system. Talk about blowing your own trumpet!

indiamart.com

3.      The creeper, who considers himself a bit of a houseplant and sticks around, even after you have reached your destination, insisting that he can take you places, regardless of whether you want to go or not.

4.      The cheapster, who invites you in with a fawning gesture and then starts bargaining, generally referring to the hike in petrol prices (Blame the govt for that!), the distance involved, the speed breakers and the potholes which grow in proportion every time he describes them. Once he has taken you for a ride, he takes you once again for a ride, saying. "Metre kharab hai!"

zoomcar autowala

5.      The eater who chews away to glory, shaking his head in blissful abandon, while you hope that he will keep his eyes peeled on the road and his garlic-laden breath at more than arm’s length. His excuse? Madam, not eaten breakfast, lunch, dinner, depending on the time of day.

6.      The greeter who hails you with a cheery Good Morning, Namaste or Pinnendha Vishesham (What’s the latest?) and continues to try and keep you in a cheerful frame of mind, hoping against hope, for an extra ten bucks for sunshiny behaviour.

7.      The keeper is that amazing auto driver who impresses you so much on the first trip that you want to keep him for all your trips out. He is polite, keeps his vehicles clean and attractive, drives carefully avoiding potholes, and gives you the exact change. Had he a hat, he would tip it as well.

123RF.com

8.      Then emerges the leaper, who is highly excitable. He leaps off his seat at the drop of a hat, and strides towards the adjacent vehicle which may have just missed grazing his auto, shouting volleys of abuses and shaking his fists.  Unfortunately, you never know when one of these is going to pull a Nagavalli or a Manjulika on you. (The references are to the original Malayalam movie, Manichitra Thazhu, and its Hindi remake, Bhool Bhullaiya).

9.      A surreptitious eye, sly glances thrown at the mirror that has been tilted just so, and a distracted air are all signs of a peeper. The darting eyes give him away. He is a specimen to be avoided at any cost.

10.  The preener is the other extreme. He places mirrors on every side of the auto. I once got into an ornately-done up auto which had two mirrors on the side facing the driver, two mirrors that faced the road and one huge mirror in which the driver could admire his own mug. There he sat, admiring himself, stroking his moustache once in a while, thankfully when there was a break in the traffic.

11.  The garrulous ones are the most difficult to endure. You come across a repeater who says one thing and drones on like a stuck record, saying the same thing over and over again. Thoughts of murder come easy at such moments.

                                     

Flickr

12.  An auto is actually a rather small vehicle. However, there is the ambitious driver who considers himself the most efficient ‘seater’, a coinage of mine. He packs his passengers like sardines, cramming every inch of his vehicle with bodies, perspiration and bad breath. On top of that, he allows one or two passengers to rest a quarter of their backsides on his seat as well.

13.  However, the most dangerous one of all is the sleeper who has obviously not had a full night’s rest, or is a snorer suffering from sleep apnoea. There was this time when the auto kept rocking from side to side. When I glanced in the mirror, there was Rip Van Winkle, busy taking his forty winks. Horrified to see his head falling onto his chest every time he nodded off, I got off much before my destination as I had no intention of meeting my Maker, post-haste.

1 4.  The speedster takes the cake and the whole bakery for achieving Olympic goals on a landscape that is most un-Olympic. He starts off with a huge jerk that almost propels you out, then proceeds along a zigzag path, going into potholes with breakneck speed. Adroitly he manoeuvres his way out of them, as every bone in your body rattles in protest. He swerves, cuts through traffic like a warm knife through butter, and cuts corners that don’t even exist. By the end, you thank your stars that you have not gone through the roof of the auto and been propelled to outer space.

Surendra

Youngisthan.in

15. The steeper is a thirsty man. Fifty yards into the journey, he turns around brightly, saying, “Tea, Madam?” Before you realize that he is not offering you a cuppa, he jumps off with alacrity, and steeps himself in a steaming hot cup of tea at his favourite tea stall, leaving you feeling as bereft as a deserted island. (If islands had feelings, that is!)

1 6.  The mobile phone is a very useful instrument, you would concede. However, imagine your plight when you are running against time and the driver’s phone keeps jangling to the most raucous music, and he picks it up every single time, still driving merrily over bumps, potholes and bystanders’ toes. At one stage, you tell him to stop using the phone, and he does stop. Not the phone, but the vehicle! Then he turns around, all cheery and says, “Madam, please, one minute!” Next, he starts messaging the person involved. For want of a better word, I should term him a tweeter, I guess!

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17.      The weeper looks at you with large, melancholy eyes, waiting for the slightest hint of interest on your part. The moment he senses that you are ready for a sob story, the dam breaks and he buttonholes you, embroidering his tale with details that would depress even the most optimistic. 

So, there you have it – the whole gamut of auto drivers who populate not only God’s Own Country, but the whole of India as well. God bless them all! :)

  

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The Relief Goes On! #KeralaFloods - Post 1 - #MyFriendAlexa

HELP REHABILITATE KERALA

The floods in Kerala have abated, the relief and rehabilitation work is going on in full swing as people try to put their lives back together once again. Houses have been washed away, possessions lost and the future grim. However, there is a wonderful wave that is flowing across the state, a wave of volunteers from all walks of life, an ocean of workers who are ready to do all they can to assuage suffering. These volunteers have dropped whatever they were doing and have rushed in, often where angels fear to tread.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the Thrissur Indoor Stadium where a massive movement is taking place. My husband and I wanted to do our bit to offer aid. We have a couple of empathetic friends from across the country, who also wanted to donate, but were determined that the money should reach the right people. 

Hence, we made our way to the margin free shop and picked up twenty household kits which consisted of all essential items, from rice to matchboxes and drove to the Indoor Stadium. Even from outside, we could see a bustle of activity, as sacks of goods were being thrown down to waiting volunteers, who then lugged the heavy loads into the interior, shouting out, “Make way!”

A group of volunteers sat outside in a row, taking down the details of the donors and their donations, along with names and phone numbers. Hordes of people milled around. As we walked into the stadium, the energy within was electrifying. A gargantuan quantity of relief material lay strewn around - onions, potatoes, rice and pulses, cleaning materials, clothes, biscuits and the like. Ladies sprawled on the ground sorting out onions, even as others packed items into specific kits so that every kit would hold the same number of items. The kits we had donated were also dismembered and dovetailed into the standard kit.

Even as we looked on, the Minister for Agriculture, Mr. VS Sunil Kumar made his way into the stadium and was shown the amazing work being done by all. It was obvious that he was a regular visitor and knew his way around.

More and more trucks arrived and the pace picked up with more items being cart loaded to the venue. Suddenly, the volunteers formed lines and began throwing the smaller packets at each other in a regular rhythmic movement. It was a treat to watch as they continued this action, until all the boxes had reached their destination.

There were even a few young boys and girls who were doing their bit, much akin to the little squirrel in the Ramayana who helped to carry tiny stones to help the Vanara Sena in their bridge building. That’s how he got his stripes, it is believed.

Where were all these men and women from? Were they students? Did they have regular nine to five jobs? Were they housewives who had finished their chores and come here? Were they part of the unemployed army?

Whoever they were, there was one common refrain running through all their minds. They had come here to offer their time and their energy to help those in need. The television programmes that had broadcast the devastation across Kerala, and the heart-wrenching stories told by the anguish in the eyes of those who had suffered mammoth losses, had moved myriad hearts. A whole section of the people in Kerala had been galvanized and here they were, doing their bit to assuage the suffering.

As we gazed, silently, at the entire machinery that worked in unison, in perfect rhythm, our hearts were full. The whole country had come together in a crisis in the south of India, and given of themselves. Donations were still pouring into the Chief Minister’s Relief Fund, and once the relief ended, the rehabilitation efforts would begin. That was where the money had to be pumped in, to ensure that the common man, who had lost his entire life savings in one fell swoop, had a ray of hope to look forward to. 

For it is impossible to even envisage how a family feels when it watches every brick, every possession and every hope wash away in the throes of Nature’s fury. It is to be hoped no one ever be in that position ever again. For that, we must all strive, we must co-operate as a state, as a nation, and as citizens of a common world.

Kerala needs all of your help. For those of you who would like to donate, here's how you can do so under five minutes.

Thank you so much, dear friends, for your patient reading. 
Let's make Kerala 'God's Own Country' all over again. 

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Raining Cats and Dogs in Kerala

HELP REHABILITATE KERALA

#BlogForKerala

Raining cats and dogs has taken on a new meaning this time around in God’s Own Country. The deluge, which began in a few places in mid and north Kerala, spread to the rest of the state like wildfire (if that is the right expression!) after 33 dams were opened. Never since 1924 has our verdant state experienced such a downpour. Low lying areas were inundated and every day, a number of deaths were reported even as hordes of people were evacuated and taken safely to relief camps which sprang up in every dry corner. 

Thrissur was one of the last districts to be badly affected. My husband and I live in Peringavu, which is a low lying area in Thrissur town, and woke up on the morning of the 16^th to find that the main road that runs in front of our set of flats had turned into a river in spate. From our tiny balcony, we could see that the water had risen to almost ... and as the downpour continued, there were all kinds of boats and vessels on the road, ferrying people in distress to safer areas. Old men and women, mothers with babies, the sick and the infirm, people carrying meagre packages that contained a few sets of clothes and essentials; it was heartrending to see how many of them had lost everything in one fell swoop.

The onrush of muddy water, the gloomy grey skies, the incessant sound of the water, intrepid men and women carefully wading through waist-deep water, enthusiastic bands of young volunteers pushing along the helpless in massive aluminium cans, make-shift canoes and rubber tubes, and umbrellas in colourful hues and sizes – the resilience of the people of Kerala was heart-warming to watch. Despite the trauma and the arduous, backbreaking activity, smiles and typical ‘ jokes’ were still being bandied around. 

Two days before the floods hit Thrissur, my husband and I drove to drop my sister off at Nedumassery Airport, and we stayed around the area to make sure her flight left. Rumours had been floating around that the Idukki Dam would be opened that morning. If so, the airport would close down.

We stopped at a quaint little place called ‘Adaminde Chayakadda’ (Adam's Teashop) to have breakfast. A pretty waitress hailed us cheerily and took down our orders. It was only later that she told us that she had lost five close family members, her aunt’s family, in a landslide the day before. We were amazed at her never-say-die spirit, and the way she continued at her job despite a personal tragedy.

That was the spirit that hovered over the entire state as people worked relentlessly to save, rescue, help and rehabilitate the affected. The state machinery moved into place like clockwork, young and old volunteers worked with diligence, the Armed Forces were their normal efficient self, and various NGOs, doctors, engineers, psychologists, businessmen, small and big, teachers, sanitary workers, labourers – in fact, just everybody, came together in a spirit of bonhomie and camaraderie. 

A quote from Punya Jayarajan who lives in Kerala went viral in no time. Her answer to the question, "What is something that needs to be said?" went thus.

"All the temples, mosques and churches here are drowned but God came wearing uniforms to help us."

The Prime Minister made a quick survey and allocated 600 crores for the state. However, aid in the form of money, clothes, the basic necessities, grocery items and food came from all over the country as people opened out their hearts and their purses to help selflessly.

Of course, there were a few rumour – mongers on Whatsapp who predicted dams overflowing further, and certain unsavoury self-proclaimed god men who shouted from the rooftops that no help should be offered to a state where beef was eaten. Likewise, there were others who blamed the entire calamity on the Sabarimala issue and the entry of women. 

There was also a certain voice in the darkness, an audio clip that urged people across the country not to send aid to Kerala which was filled with wealthy people who would not accept it. Unfortunate, because that one clip did as much damage for a while as the floods had done, until donors realized that Kerala did need help, that there were thousands of poor people who had suffered massive losses, and that every bit of aid would only be accepted with gratitude.

These were blips on the radar which hit hard while they lasted, but disappeared without a lasting effect in a state that is populated by citizens who are literate and sensible.

Today, as the state slowly gets back on to its feet, two days before Thiruvonam, where all celebrations have been cancelled, and the money saved been sent to the affected, it is with immense pride that I look upon our beautiful Kerala. There is a feeling of harmony all around as different religions have come together to lend a helping hand. Some beautiful stories have emerged; the little girl who broke her five piggy banks and gave the 9000 rupees she had collected for a cycle to the CM’s Relief Fund, the pastor who donated his land to bury the deceased regardless of religion, a temple in Thrissur that offered its hall for Eid prayers, a fisherman who lay down in the water so that women could use his back to step onto rescue boats, a mosque that housed people from various religions, Muslims who cleaned a Hindu temple after it was waterlogged, and Hindus reciprocating by helping to clean masjids.

What beautiful stories of religious harmony! The Kerala Floods have brought together people from all communities, and the lesson that emerges is that during times of extreme duress, all human beings are equal, they all undergo sufferings and they all hold out their hands to try and alleviate the common agony.

For as Abou Ben Adhem said to the Angel who was writing the names of those whom the Lord loved, “Write me as one that loves his fellow men.” 

Kerala needs all your help. For those of you who would like to contribute, here's how you can donate in under five minutes. 

Thank you, dear friends, from the bottom of my heart, and God bless!

#BlogForKerala #HelpandRehabilitateKerala #OpenYourHearts #KeralaFloods