Random Musings III

2nd January, this year. Delhi airport. I find seven people standing in a queue in front of the stall from where you can book 'prepaid taxis'. I position myself as the eighth guy, put down both of my suitcases, rest my shoulder bag on top of one of them and try and make sense of the controlled commotion around me. Within a couple of minutes, I find myself leading the queue. A middle aged man with a 'tere naam' hairstyle and mouth filled with paan masala spews 'Kaha jaana hai ?' I tell him my destination and he furiously types something on the keypad in front of him, as if he has a flight to catch in five minutes. Taxi booked; service time was fifteen seconds give or take a second or two.

Rewind seven days. Dumdum airport, eleven at night. Approximately thirty people are waiting for their turn to prepay and book a taxi. After half an hour, with just five people in front of me, I have a clearer view of the stall and can actually make out what is going on inside. One slender and malnourished person with a thin moustache is slouched on a blue revolving chair, taking in the cool air apewed by the air conditioner. With a smirk on his face, he is making a point to a person who is standing with his back to us. A third guy, looking like a typical labour union leader, with thick glasses and a disgusted expression on his face, is multitasking between casting a disparaging look on the customer in front of him, fiddling on a keyboard, throwing a few points of his own in the intellectually stimulating discussion currently underway about four feet away from him, and forwarding a slip towards the customer using his index and middle fingers. The person standing just in front of me, elbow resting on the handlebar of a trolley on which five big suitcases have been heaved on, rattles off impatiently, 'Dada, ektu taratari korun na!' (Mister, can you speed things up a bit!). All three persons inside the stall stop whatever they are doing. Labour union leader looks up, slowly measures the protestor from top to bottom, and hisses, 'Oto tara thakle ekhan theke chole jaan.' (If you are in such a hurry, get out of here). Kolkata.