Prologue

I doubt if there’s anyone in Mumbai who’s been around more in taxis. Me, I live, sleep and breathe taxis. And no, I don’t drive one.

Like most of you I too am gainfully employed in the private sector. It’s that my office thinks it fine to confine me to the black and yellow contraptions that call themself taxis. I guess it’s one of those stupidities that plague a company; you all know the joke about the monkeys on a tree looking up and seeing their superior’s posterior, this must be my company’s way of doing it I guess.

Anyway, such commute over the years in all types of weather, road condition, and geography makes me uniquely placed to offer my take on the experience. A city that thinks itself international cannot afford to have such eyesores on the road; that it does, should tell you a lot about the persuasive powers of A L Quadros and his hordes, and the willingness of Mumbai’s administrators to be persuaded.

In the meantime, the City folk get the worst end of the stick, but really who cares about them! The swish set swishes about in their Corollas and Civics; most others still prefer the local trains and BEST buses, travelling in which is a much better experience, never mind the time taken.

It’s only the poor souls like me who get rogered. But then, whoever cares about poor souls, especially in the private sector!