Short anecdote/story of how I was helped by two young students to find an UBER. I had been in a rather hapless state. Letter written to my daughter...




Dear Priya, 

This is what happened on the streets of Kolkata about three days back. I've sacked my driver of three months, because another driver at the university informed me that mine was apparently stealing gallons of petrol from my car. True enough, when I reached home and asked to see the contents of the bag strapped to his scooter, there were four bottles of petrol in them. I asked him where these bottles had come from. He urbanely replied that his brother had given them to him. 

In such cases, I always have the feeling that I am wrong and the wrong doer right. Or in any case, I never really want to argue the point with them. Very unlike how I am with you and your brother:)

Anyway, I have been without a car and a driver since August 26.I feel very helpless on the roads of Kolkata, as you well know. 

I travelled to Presidency College during my undergraduate years, which were from 1979 to 1982. I used to take the train, along the Budge Budge line, along with many others. We would get off at Sealdah station and walk down Harrison road to the college, and the walk was usually a twenty minute one. I never felt the need to be in any car during those 24+ months that I studied in that college. 

But now that I teach at Presidency University, and am used to riding my own car everyday, the lack of it, makes me uneasy and anxious. 

I am not good at booking the air-conditioned Ola or Uber taxis that are often available nowadays. My phone inevitably hangs. Lumia phones are truly a disgrace--I mean, they embarrass you to the world. 

On two separate occasions I sat next to the security desk at the university because Babu from Hyderabad, was having trouble booking me an Ola cab. The security hugely commiserated my beleaguered state. They offered to find me a driver. I declined. I am done with them for the time being. 

Three days back when my phone 'hung' on me again, I stood witless at the University gates. The Ola cab that had anssered my second attempt at booking, had apparently arrived and was waiting for me at College Square. I haplessly asked the security where College Square was. As if I did not know. 

I plunged into the milling crowd on the pavements of College Street, tentatively and timidly asking college and university students, to give me some place to pass through them. I felt lost and bewildered and utterly anxious.  

After that the most idiotic thing of all. I went up to a parked Uber taxi and asked the driver (who reluctantly rolled his window down) if his cab could be hired. He made a dismissive gesture. 

Suddenly, I turn back. A charming young girl's face looks up at me with a shy smile, and says, 'Ma'am can we help you to book a cab'? A young man stood behind her. Equally young.  I asked her,'Are you students of Presidency?'. 'No, Ma'am. We are from Jadavpur. We came to invite the Presidency students to a Fest'.

They were Akif and Rushali. Akif studies Mechanical Engineering at Jadavpur. He is in the Second Year. Rushali studies International Relations, is also in the Second Year, and hopes to become a diplomat. 

'I was hesitant, Ma'am. But he insisted that we come after you and help you'. 

'How did you know that I needed a cab or needed help?'

'We heard the guards talk, Ma'am,' Akif replied, 'And we followed you'.

'I'll book you a cab, Ma'am. It's easier from an Android phone'. 

The cab that he booked parked a long way off from where we were standing on College Street. 'Ma'am if he has to come here, he will have to make several detours. Shall we just walk down to where he is parked?'

'Will you walk with me?'

'Of course, Ma'am'. 

'Here's my phone number. If you face any difficulty on the way, just give me a call, ' Akif, said. 

They walked me to the cab.

I blessed them and told them that their parents had done a wonderful job in raising them. 'Any time, Ma'am, ' they said.