Throng

February 21, 2006

One of the worst weeks with our driver Dubey was a couple of weeks ago when we had several major incidents during the span of several days. I won’t bother detailing the daily altercations with or on good days the angry looks we get from offended autorickshaw drivers or passerbys on the roads since these have become routine.

Dubey, Nikhitita and I had just arrived at a store I had heard about and wanted to explore. Our driver was looking for a spot to park and had just pulled the car up onto the curb when we heard a thud and felt the front left side of the car drop. All of his efforts to rev the engine and reverse were in vain. Apparently he had driven us into a drainage ditch, which was not covered. Dubey merely berated the state government for not doing their jobs while I was quietly wondering why he didn’t notice the gaping trench that stretched the entire length of the roadway. Within a minute of two, around 10 schoolboys mysteriously appeared in front of our car. Another man also emerged and instructed the boys to lift up the car while Dubey sat on the driver’s side and steered. Nikhitita and I were also in the car. Of course as soon as we were lifted out of the ditch it was clear that the gathering of helpers were waiting for our thanks. Afraid that the crowd would transform into a mob, I feverishly searched my bag worried only to find large notes, which would definitely have caused a frenzy had I only given it to one of the young boys. Looking around, I wasn’t sure what to do as more kids seemed to be peering through the car window when Dubey said, “I’ll take care of it,” and pointed me to the store we had come for and said, “You go.” I grabbed Nikhitita out of her car seat and rushed across the street to the store from which I could see the driver taking some money out of his wallet and the horde of kids swarming around him.

After I came out of the store we headed home. We had pulled into the carport. I was keeping Nikhitita company as usual in the backseat and saw that she was fast asleep in the carseat after our adventure earlier that morning. I took off her belt buckle leaving only her arms in the straps and opened my door to go around to take her out from her side. I wanted to carry her upstairs without waking her from her deep sleep. I shut my door. All of a sudden, Dubey shouted, “Don’t shut the door.” I looked up startled. It was too late. The door shut with a final metallic thud. Dubey had left his keys in the ignition with the car running and the AC on. I tried not to panic as we checked all the doors. They were all locked and my one-year old was fast asleep in the backseat. The two security guards who watch our building came towards the car. I saw Dubey walk under the carport. I assumed he was going to get something to open the car door. We did not hear from or see him for the next 45 minutes.

The driver of the car next to ours was waiting idly in his car. He immediately came out, found a wire, and tried to jostle the lock on the driver’s side. No luck. 5 minutes passed. Still no Dubey. Where was he? The security guards and some of the other staff that maintain our building started bringing different things (metal pieces, wood planks, etc.) to try to open any of the doors. 10 minutes passed. I was starting to sweat. I remember watching Nikhitita intently to make sure that the rise and fall of her small chest remained steady. Once 15 minutes had passed I desperately asked any of the 10 or so men around our car to break the window. None of them spoke English so I made gestures of breaking the glass. I could make out that there was a general reluctance to break any part of this vehicle, especially when the driver was no where to be seen. As the seconds continued to tick by a locksmith arrived. Apparently someone had run for him in the ensuing melee. I was encouraged at seeing the locksmith, but began to grow more and more anxious as we approached 30 minutes and neither the locksmith applying his craft to the driver’s door or the men trying to pry open the passenger front and rear windows were successful. I was pacing around the car alternatively watching the men fervently working and Nikhitita’s calmly breathing. Finally I could handle it no longer and insisted that someone break a window or at least give me something so that I could do it. As I was attempting to communicate what I wanted in a mixture of gestures and English Saurav the cable operator for our building made an appearance. I knew that he spoke English so immediately enlisted his aid. He told me that everyone was scared to break into the car without the driver around and also afraid that the shattering glass could hurt the baby. Later I remembered that we owed the cable operator money for cable and wondered whether he had been there to seek payment. If that was the case he was a smart man not to bring that up! I told Saurav that I wanted to break either the front passenger side which was diagonally opposite to where Nikhitita slept in her car seat or the small triangle window directly across from her so as to minimize glass falling on her. Suddenly I noticed that Nikhitita’s eyelids were fluttering. I was horrified remembering that her belt was unfastened. Suddenly my fear shifted from lack of oxygen to fear that she would fall from the carseat. Nikhitita started writhing and the security guard who was next to her window frantically motioned her to stop. He called me over to her side of the car. But I immediately retreated as Nikhitita moved towards me sliding down several inches. I was frightened and shouted that we have to break the door now or my baby will fall. Saurav asked me whether I would take responsibility for the damage to which I immediately nodded yes and he started to gently chistle at the front passenger window using a hammer with the pointed side towards the glass. The locksmith had been working away and so had the men trying to pry the rear triangle window across from Nikhitita. It all happened one after another. The men working on the triangular window slab shouted that it had been removed. Saurav stopped hammering and then seconds later the locksmith opened his door. The security guard reached in, unlocked the opened the door trough the triangular window, dove in, scooped Nikhitita up and handed her to me. I remember showering her with kisses while fighting back tears from welling in my eyes. Although Nikhitita happily accepted my show of affection, she did not see it as unusual. Thank you God! She was okay. Strange thing is that the tears only came when I knew she was safe in my arms. They were tears of happiness and relief.

Suddenly everyone was asking about the driver. I tried to call him a couple of times but no one picked up. And then general chaos ensued as a Toyota Qualis SUV raced through the carport gate. I looked up surprised to see our first driver Rahyl at the wheel and then Dubey hopped out of the back pulling a bicycle out with him. I had assumed that he had left the scene never to be seen again. It had been 45 minutes since the ordeal started and it was only now that he was showing up. Later I found out from him that he had hopped on a bicycle and pedaled all the way to a locksmith he knew in Santa Cruz who charged 50 rupees to open car doors (or so he told me). Apparently the locksmith was not there and so he went to his car company office to pick up a second set of keys. Rahul who was there drove him and his borrowed bicycle back. I was stunned and could not speak for a while. I looked at him disbelievingly and admonished him that he should have told someone what he was planning on doing and that I would have gladly lent him a phone to call his office (most drivers have phones that only accept incoming calls). He then admitted that he had gotten frazzled but that his intent had been to do the right thing and in fact it all started because he had left the AC on (and hence the keys in the ignition) for Nikhitita’s comfort. I believe him but also have seen him leave his keys in the ignition on numerous occasions. Sadly since this incident Nikhitita does not like to sit in her carseat. After all the activity trying to break into the car, the front door locks on the driver and passenger sides were not functional and window sealing had been displaced around most of the windows with the exception of the one next to Nikhitita’s carseat. Dubey fumed out loud about all the damage to a foreign car. He kept saying, “This is not an Indian car” and he berated the locksmith for having made a new key to get into the car saying, “We already have a key. It was in the ignition.” I called Bob and told him that Nikhitita had been locked in the car but that she was out and okay now. I had intentionally waited to call him when she was out knowing that he would worry and that he was too far away to physically do anything. I paid the locksmith for the key after talking to Saurav and calling Bob on the phone. I suppose that it is only natural that he would hike up his standard rates in such times of need. Taking Bob’s advice Nikhitita and I slowly disappeared upstairs leaving everyone to continue arguing below.

A couple of days later there was another incident. We had spent the day with Bob’s sister and family in South Bombay and then dropped Bob off at a work function on Marine Drive. The driver was taking the two kids and myself back to Bandra. We were on a busy street made even busier since several lanes were blocked up ahead. A motorbike was riding very close to our car splitting traffic. The motorbike then went ahead of us but a little bit diagonally such that if there were lanes he would have slightly encroached our space. Dubey moved ahead and as he did I heard the displeasing sound of grating metal. The so far staid motorbike driver who had been keeping pace with us for some time now began to bludgeon Dubey’s mirror with his bare hands shouting obscenities. Of course Dubey, who was never one to keep his mouth closed, opened his window and shouted back at him. Suddenly space opened up directly ahead of us and the motorbike drive still looking infuriated revved directly ahead of our car. I breathed a sigh of relief thinking that a bad situation had been averted. But it was too premature for that thought. The motorcyclist blocked our car with his bike, took off his helmet, and came around to the front passenger side door and opened it! I sucked in my breath and wished that Dubey would lock all the doors, as I have many times asked him to do. The agitated motorbike rider proceeded to shower Dubey with a series of blows to his left arm. Dubey’s face morphed from one of anger to one of fear. I thought that Dubey was going to be dragged out of the car when all of a sudden the motorbike rider looked into the back seat. He saw a scared woman covering a baby’s eyes and a 4 year old just waking up. He stopped what he was doing and walked away leaving the car door open. Someone else on the street shut the door.

Of course knowing that his life had been spared was not enough for Dubey who was talking back to another motorbike rider who had been riding alongside the other one. There were also a few schoolboys who mysteriously appeared around our car. They began to hit our car. Where do these guys come? I was perplexed. It was in the middle of traffic and at 9 pm at night. Suddenly the other man on the motorbike look inflamed and I heard a clicking as Dubey locked all the doors with the master switch. I remember thinking why doesn’t Dubey stop talking..is this man crazy? Later, as I narrated this to Bobby I remember telling him that most of the other cars ignored what was going on. The only person who could have helped us out was this other motorcyclist and Dubey was angering him as well with whatever he was saying. I didn’t understand the specifics of the shouting which was in Hindi but one did not have to be overly perceptive to know that it was not pleasant conversation. Thankfully, traffic began to move and we did not see either of the motorbikes again.

As I look back at all three situations that week, it struck me that a throng of people appeared in each. When we were stuck in the ditch, they appeared to help but a price was expected for the help. When Nikhitita was trapped in the car, a throng of people appeared, but with the exception of the locksmith (and he was doing his job) no one was looking for payment. During the motorbike incident a throng also appeared but this time it was in the hope of seeing a fight. I suppose it is only human nature to be curious about an unusual situation. But I am certainly grateful that the majority of time it is also human nature to be helpful.