A sunny morning was a great start to a cold day in a new city. I booked a taxi which, surprisingly, arrived in less than a minute, stopping at my feet.
Taxis aren't known for their exact arrival in this city. It's often a long wait and they always end up parking away from you, which often leads to a lot of conversations on the phone.
As I got in, I was warmly welcomed. The driver, Raju, started a conversation straight away as we set off. His conversation was full of polite English words and I could see that his vocabulary wasn't too bad for someone who hadn't gone beyond high school.
I was enjoying it. The only off-putting thing was the music. I asked him to turn it off and see if he liked the playlist on my phone. To my surprise, Raju knew names of the musicians and the singers. He told me his formative years were the early nineties — same as mine.
We enjoyed six old songs before we reached the destination. Raju thanked me for the music I played and refused to take any money. I knew there was no point in pressing him so I took out some chocolate and passed it to him. He was hesitant, but couldn't say no.
After spending an hour in the market, I decided to push off. I booked a taxi and to my surprise, it was Raju again. He welcomed me with a happy smile, "The Earth is round." I made him promise to accept the fare this time or I would cancel the booking. He agreed. I was glad there was no music playing in the taxi as I preferred to have a chat with him.
I learned Raju was a cancer survivor and the breadwinner of the family. I asked him if he needed help. He said no and told me that he would keep working hard as long as his body allowed.
Before saying goodbye, I asked if I could do anything for him. "Say something nice about taxi drivers," he laughed and drove away.
