Call Taxis

Call Taxis

All of a sudden we have a surfeit of call taxis. They are everywhere, even in our small town of Vellore. They have all kinds of names Leo, Friend, Maya etc. Uber has not condescended to grace us with its presence, nor has Ola. Two other “national” carriers have though, NTL and Fast Track.

Now going to the railway station or home (if your car is temporarily unavailable) has become quite easy. Just call the catchy numbers. Most of them end with repetitive digits, like 0000 0000 or 5555 5555. It makes life easy. No more dusty autos. Or even better, no haggling with the rude  tobacco chewing beedi smoking auto drivers. Or so I thought----

I needed to go to the railway station. Reluctant to leave my car there overnight, I called  for a taxi. The man arrived very late so I barely had enough time to make the train.

“Please put on the air-conditioning,” I said, “I specifically asked for an AC taxi when I booked”.

“You have to pay more per kilometer.”

“Okay” Is said “close the windows and turn it on.”

“I can’t “said the driver, “ the gas in the AC leaks when the engine runs.”

This did not seem very logical to me.

“Why did you come then? I asked for an AC vehicle.”

“You women are all the same, “ shouted the driver, abruptly stopping the taxi in the middle of the road. He suddenly got out and threw my luggage on the street. Luckily I got picked up by an auto and made it to the station. (Anyway the train was late.) I spent the entire journey calling up the company and complaining. Luckily I had the driver’s name and contact details. They were very apologetic and offered me a discount on my next ride. With so many options to choose from I decided that I wasn’t going to call them again.

A couple of months later I needed to go home after work. This time the polite driver took me home in an AC taxi. Just as we took the turning home, the power shut down.  My generator kicked in and my house was eerily lit up in the dark deserted street.

“Is that the house?,” asked the driver.

“Yes” I replied.

“Do you live in it all alone?’’ His question gave me the creeps.

“No,” I said firmly, “we are a joint family.”

The last driver was really loquacious. He looked at the beads around my neck.

“What religion are you?” he asked.

In theses days of terrorists,  religious intolerance and racism, I wasn’t going to answer. Finally after repeated queries, I said “I am a communist. We have no God.”

“Why then do you wear a religious necklace.”
I fingered the beads around my neck. “These are only coloured beads.” I was hoping that he did not think they were valuable. Perhaps the sheer boredom of the job makes the drivers curious about the people who hire taxis.

“Can you give me some water to drink?”

I entered the house locked the door behind me and gave him the water. Really creepy.

The taxis cost the  same and are sometimes cheaper than autos. This means the auto business is suffering. Perhaps there will a fight one day between the two unions!

The Vellore taxis are equipped with meters. So the rates are standard. I wish they also had GPS tracking devices. I would feel a lot safer and happier. Maybe a couple of years down the line---- . For the time being I just keep one of my juggling clubs in my voluminous hand bag. It is really a good weapon.