Long, bumpy rides in Mumbai’s bylanes bring you face to face with some terribly amusing sights.
Pssst….for those of you who can’t read in the Mumbai smog, it says,
Mera Road Bheyender
I always wondered what the names stuck on the back of taxis meant. Would he be offended if I asked him to go elsewhere? Now we see our autorickshaws have abandoned social awareness (Mulgi shikli, pragati zhali) in favour of more practical (if not indecipherable) engravings.
Speaking of which, the Mumbai autorickshawallas and taxiwallas must be the most amourous of all Indian men. I’m thrown to one side while he negotiates a pothole but I land on a poster of a pouty Urmila Matondker. From the other corner Amisha Patel stares balefully at me, as if asking me why I favour her colleague. From the side-mirror dangles a beaded heart with tassles. And Himmesss implores me to show a glimpse of my face. Anybody remember Altaf Raja of Tum to thehere pardesi fame? Alas, a decade later, he has finally been dethroned as the king of rickshawalla gaana!!!
And finally, my piece de resistance:
I rest my case. No one understands my dil ka haal better than this man!!