When I was discussing writing as a career option with a journalist friend, she off handedly remarked that Mumbai is full of stories. Looking back at my last year and half in Mumbai, I cannot but agree with her. Every place, every moment has a story, true, but Mumbai with its teeming millions who live, work, travel, earn and interact in unique ways, can make you weave stories every moment of your stay here.
Here is one which I was a part…a non-descript moment which got engraved in my memory because I decided to hire a particular auto-rickshaw. June 2009. I was interning with an organization whose office was in Prabhadevi. On my way back from office I took a harbor line local from Vadala. It was around 8:30 that I reached Govandi station and got out looking for auto-rickshaws. The hostel mess would serve dinner till 9 and I wanted to freshen up before it. Walking out of the station, I dint see any on the road and was irked.
I had walked almost 100-150 meters from the station gate and came across the first auto-rickshaw. Thanks to my lucky stars, the auto-wallah agreed to give me a ride back to the hostel. While I boarded the rickshaw, he turned around the vehicle and paused for a second near the jalebi (a sweet dish popular in north India) wallah across the road. Sticking out his neck, he shouted out at a young girl standing there, “I will just be back in 5 minutes”. I do not exactly remember what the girl looked like. Out of my curiosity, I asked the driver, “Who is she?” His face glowed with that quintessential fatherly affection and he said, “That’s my daughter. I had promised her a trip around Govandi. She is waiting for me.”
In a moment I took a trip back to my childhood. Every evening I used to wait for my father to get back home so that he would take me for a walk and get me some candies. Suddenly I was full of guilt for spoiling an evening trip of this child, of stealing away a moment precious to her childhood. I offered to step out of the auto and hire another one, but the poor father said this would only help him earn some extra money. I stayed. He rode me to my hostel. The meter read 10 bucks. I gave him a Rs. 20 note and didn’t take the change he was returning. Penance. I asked him to buy some jalebi for his daughter. He laughed a little and drove out of my sight.
Since then, every time I have thought about a father child relationship, I have offered my silent apologies to the kid. Did he go back straight to his daughter? Did he find another passenger who wanted to go to Chembur? Or to Andheri? Did he take another passenger just to earn some money for his kid? Was the little girl waiting where I saw her last? How long did she wait? Did he buy her the jalebi I offered as my apology? What was the mood at home like when they met at night? Was she happy after a ride or sulking because Papa broke another promise?
