The Passengers

My neighbor, an elderly white haired gentleman, desperately needed  to reach Chennai.

“My driver is drunk,” he said pathetically, “I can smell the alcohol.”

“My father is leaving at 1 o’clock, you can travel with him.” I said.

Father pushed the front seat all the way back in a reclining position and slept all the way to Chennai. The neighbor sat in the back.

On the return trip, (late night after a Gin) my father forgot about the neighbor. He slept soundly in his front seat. 

Half way to Chennai, the neighbor asked ,”Would you like a sandwich?”

“Aagh!” shouted my father. The driver got a fright and jammed on the brakes. Luckily at that time of the night, there was not much traffic. No one rear ended us.

Once he was safely home, father said,” that man suddenly squeaked about sandwiches at me from the back seat. I had forgotten about him. He has white hair like a halo. I thought my late wife’s ghost had entered the car. He was offering food too! Just like her!

I was relating this incident to my friend.

“Oh that is nothing,” she said. 

Apparently in their younger, more romantic, less affluent, before cable TV days, they regularly went for the late night movie show by motor bike. After the movie was over, she hung her handbag on the handle bar. Taking it as a signal, her husband sped off, leaving her standing in the middle of the road. This was before the days of cell phones. Not knowing what to do, with no handbag, she started to weep. The theater was next to the government bus depot. A few off duty conductors and drivers came to investigate the matter. After several smothered guffaws, they took a collection, called an auto-rickshaw and negotiated for him to take her home. She was scared of the auto driver, it was the middle of the night, so, she wept all the way home.

Once they reached, the bike was neatly parked, the husband had locked up the house and gone to sleep. The auto driver and she rang the bell and pounded on the door.

“Sister, “ said the driver, “which room is he sleeping in? I will climb up and bang on the window.”

After a great deal of noisy intervention and shouts of “thief , thief  “ from the startled husband, he finally ran downstairs and opened the front door to escape from the thief.    

My friend was hysterical. “How could you? How could you?”

“I thought you were sitting pillion! I even discussed purchasing a car with you all the way home.”  Said the husband.

”Don’t say I participated in the conversation!!”

“I never listen to what you say anyway,” said the husband sheepishly.

“After we reached?” Asked my friend.

“I thought you were behind me. I thought you went to the kitchen. So I went to sleep-----.”

http://velloretimes.blogspot.in/