Check out 16 Return-To-Work Programs In India For Ambitious Women Like You!
If you have ever been in Delhi and you want to travel, it’s rare thing to miss the green Delhi autos with yellow hoods that swim around the city.
I am a single woman in this city and I owe no private vehicle, not even a bicycle! So Delhi autos have been a constant companion for the past 12 years. I have seen them going from petrol to CNG, from bargaining to meters and then how the metros made their business dip.
So, welcome to NCR, where you end up calling the auto rickshaw drivers, ‘Bhaiya.’
So if I am at Dilli Haat and have to come to Lajpat Nagar (which I frequently do) this is how it goes, “Bhaiya meter se (Bhaiya, let’s go by meter).” Then the Bhaiya will say, “Madam rasta jam hai, 50 mein jayenge!”(Madam the roads are jammed, I will go on a fare of Rs. 50). I being the regular commuter raise my voice with authority, and add, “Bhaiya meter se chalo, Rs. 40 mein,” (Let’s go by meter its Rs.40).
So you haggle and struggle till Bhaiya gives up or you do. And trust me it’s an everyday scene. Oh! Not just this, even if the meter is staring at you the autowale bhaiya will still ask you, “Meter se chalna hai kya (Will you go by meter)?”
That’s Dilli meri jaan for you. Yes, there is the extremely efficient metro that runs through the city. Yes! We Dilli walas love it, it has definitely made our lives and pockets easier, but they take us to the definite stations and Dilli has so many roads and gallis – if you understand. So, the autos become an essential part of your living and at times the autowale bhaiya becomes your Messiah.
Don’t believe me? Try coming back home from any place a little late and most Delhi autos refuse to take you because “Rasta ulta parta hai (I have to take a U-Turn),” and he has to go home. Sometimes even when you offer to pay more, the autowale Bhaiya might just refuse. Though now there is a law that after 9 pm an auto driver cannot refuse to drop a woman, if he does, she can call a help line number. I have never used that number, so the benefits of using it are something that remains to be seen personally.
There is another very special feature of the autowale Bhaiyas. They stand at any railway or metro station and the moment they see you, they all surround you to ride their rickshaws. Now, if you are a normal person like me and have no hope of paparazzi chasing you ever, this moment of these ten men trying to get your attention can be the alternative. Of course you being the star have the right either to choose one or just get irritated. But this is the closest to ‘being mobbed’ one can experience.
Gurgaon has these pink hooded autos. They are ‘specially for women’ autos. They only drive the women folk. I often used them. But here is a word of caution if ever you are on your way alone, and the driver says that “Aur ek sawaari bitha lete hai,” (Let me pick one more passenger) please refrain from doing so. Even if he says that he will take lesser fare, because you never know whom he picks and why.
Delhi is a harsh place to be. Autos are something you cannot avoid. You have to learn to deal with it, or get your own vehicle. Delhi teaches anyone one thing, the art of thriving. And if you don’t learn, you will go home a bitter bird. This city will teach you to test your own vocal chords, patience and your nerves. If you learn, you win and life takes you to greener pastures.
Surviving the street life of Delhi is an art of letting go and holding on. With beggars painted with tears (I have actually seen it) at red lights to road rages you will see it like no other city. But baby, you still got to show what you are made of.
Delhi autos are something you can hate or love, but can’t ignore. If you cannot beat them join them. You are the madam ji for them and for you they are the eternal autowale Bhaiyas. I learnt to thrive with them. It’s a necessity, for the intense travelling I do in this mad city. As the song says, “Yeh Dilli hai meri jaan, yahan ishq mohhabat aur pyaar.”
Choose to thrive. I did.
Published here earlier.
Image source: flickr, for representational purposes only.
Proud Indian. Senior Writer at Women's Web. Columnist. Book Reviewer. Street Theatre - Aatish. Dreamer. Workaholic. read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Women today don’t want to be in a partnership that complicates their lives further. They need an equal partner with whom they can figure out life as a team, playing by each other’s strengths.
We all are familiar with that one annoying aunty who is more interested in our marital status than in the dessert counter at a wedding. But these aunties have somehow become obsolete now. Now they are replaced by men we have in our lives. Friends, family, and even work colleagues. It’s the men who are worried about why we are not saying yes to one among their clans. What is wrong with us? Aren’t we scared of dying alone? Like them?
A recent interaction with a guy friend of mine turned sour when he lectured me about how I would regret not getting married at the right time. He lectured that every event in our lives needs to be completed within a certain timeframe set by society else we are doomed. I wasn’t angry. I was just disappointed to realize that annoying aunties are rapidly doubling in our society. And they don’t just appear at weddings or family functions anymore. They are everywhere. They are the real pandemic.
Let’s examine this a little closer.
Please enter your email address