Our sutradhaars hail the dying but once-integral community of kaali-peeli taxiwallahs who negotiate the city and it suburbs minus any tech support
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Pheroze, you’re looking quite groggy… all well, I hope?” Lady Flora enquired about her friend, who seemed a bit slow off the blocks at their midnight adda near the Cathedral. “Well, kind of. I had a disturbed sleep last night and a semi-nightmare. What with the continuous work that went on right below my nose, thanks to the annual marathon. Weren’t you affected?” he asked his friend.
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Lady Flora replied, “Of course, I too came in the line of fire. What with all the hammering and yelling out of commands–it was not the best night to rest. But I managed forty winks in the Cathedral once the event began. Poor you.” Sir PM had nodded off by then, so his friend did a mini rescue act by ordering pudina chai for them from their nearby adda. That helped, as he sat upright on the bench, and seemed in a better mood overall. “Pheroze, you mentioned ‘semi-nightmare’...what was that about?” asked Lady Flora, ever the sharp listener.
Sir PM replied in a flash, eager to share his experience, “I was returning after meeting my cousin Sohrab who lives in Bandra; lo and behold we realised that all the roads heading towards the route of the marathon were barricaded hours before the flag-off. Obviously, I didn’t anticipate it. However, luck was on my side, as I was travelling in a good ole kaali-peeli. God bless that driver. He knew his way around the city’s gullies and streets like the back of his hand. After a few dead ends [all thanks to these unforeseen road closures] he was able to drop me to my pedestal. I was so nervous about this scenario; imagine one of the cops actually told me that I would have had to walk a good kilometre to my home! But this guardian angel ensured I reached home after giving me a wonderful darshan of a side of Bombay I hadn’t seen in decades. He was calm in such an adverse scenario, and focused only on ferrying me safely home. It’s when I realised that these good fellas are in a minority in the city.”
Lady Flora smiled, “Aha! Now I get why you called it a ‘semi-nightmare’. I am glad you found a good taxiwallah. They are such a rare breed. I too have noticed how their numbers have dropped, especially after the multiple lockdowns induced by the pandemic. Previously, they would be in sight all around my pedestal but now, alas, that isn’t the case. I recall this one time when a driver was able to decipher an incorrect address that I had on me, and dropped me to the right place. I was indebted to the man and gave him a handsome tip. Pheroze, I hope you did too?” she asked her friend. “Oh yes, yes. I never forget these acts of kindness,” he added. “In fact, I have so many such incidences to recall pertaining to them. Whether it is dropping your forgotten precious legal files to your home, or refusing to take ‘baksheesh’ because it was Diwali, or agreeing to ply on the roads on a wet July day, I’ve experienced so many special acts, plus I’ve also learnt so much about the city and how their lives were deeply connected to it.”
Lady Flora then touched upon the point that both of them, and perhaps many Bombaywallahs are concerned about—their future. “Pheroze, I wonder how long is this tribe, this imminently small number of taxiwallahs going to survive? We’ve seen passengers prefer the new taxicabs for several reasons, for one. Secondly, are the laws friendly towards their ilk? What is the local and state administration doing to improve their lot? The senior drivers seem to be the last men standing, clearly. And the younger lot either doesn’t wish to carry on in the same profession [one driver told me that his son thinks it’s not a respectable profession and is even embarrassed…how terrible that must feel!] or that they prefer driving private vehicles where there is probably more money. So many questions really…”
Sir PM took his time to share his views, “Well, there is a definite concern that we might be seeing the last of these kaali-peeli taxiwallahs who I will go so far as to call true guides of the city. I’ve been shown parts of the city that I never knew existed, all thanks to them. And they rarely trouble the passenger when it comes to asking for directions. Yes, you must be ready to bear the honking and the occasional use of bad language when stuck in a jam but otherwise, it’s always been a good, safe ride for me. I genuinely hope my former bosses haven’t forgotten this key player in the city’s public transport history, and look into their issues. I hope we are able to support and sustain their existence.”
Call it coincidence or otherwise, but they spotted a waiting kaali-peeli near the Cathedral. Both glanced at each other, and hopped into it in a dash. A drive around Colaba was the plan, for old times’ sake.
mid-day’s Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city’s sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana
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