One day in an auto...

One day in an auto...
B V Prathyusha
Last week this reporter had to spend five hours on the road to cover the 16-km distance between office on MG Road and home.

The minute it starts raining in Bangalore, the City grinds to a halt. And those of us who are still at work are the worst affected, since all roads have traffic jams and if you depend on an auto for travel, you’re left wondering how to get home.
Last week this reporter had to spend five hours on the road to cover the 16-km distance between office on MG Road and home. And here’s a first hand account of all that happened on the roads from the minute it started raining.
The autos at the pre-paid counter on MG Road mysteriously disappeared around 6 pm at the first hint of rain. There was a huge line of people waiting for autos. The minute it started raining, the police at the counter also disappeared. People in the line however stubbornly refused to move as none wanted to let go of their prized spot in the queue! Fully drenched and shivering, everyone finally decided to move towards a building facing the pre-paid counter. Once here, it became survival of the fittest — the one to run to the counter when an auto was spotted was winner.
But hardly any autos were stopping (and they don’t want to be told where to go). Even if every one of the 20 people scream out for autos, they pass you by suffering from temporary deafness. But this evening there was one cheeky guy who even waved at all the commuters with a smile on his face.
The police at the counter then decided to help by bundling people travelling in the same direction in one auto. But there’s a catch — by the divine law of pre-paid counters, you cannot split the fare. Instead, both will have to pay the auto driver the full amount.
And this time, it wasn’t the auto driver demanding such fare, it was the cop telling people taking the same auto to cough up the amount. But people don’t have a choice with autos on a rainy day, so they agree to all conditions.
Two minutes in the auto, and it breaks down, that too at a bus-stand. For the next 15 minutes every bus driver honking behind the auto, had to be told about the technical problem on hand.
When we set off again, there were flooded roads and stagnant traffic everywhere. And are the auto commuters troubled? Nah! They just switch on their favourite radio station on their fancy mobiles and laugh at the RJ’s jokes while a cop drenched to his bone, has to wade through water to fix the auto’s problem.
This reporter then decided to find out more about her co-passenger. Now, here’s a tip for all you shy people out there: don’t join confidence boosting and social skills workshops, get into an auto with a stranger! (and if you insist, the police at the pre-paid counter will help you find an auto and someone to travel in the direction you’re going too).
After several discussions on bad infrastructure, corrupt authorities and brainless traffic rule violaters, when there was nothing else left to discuss with my newfound friend and the auto driver, I arrived at the half-way point.
How I got home from there is a longer story. But I’ll stop and head home now... before it starts raining again!