He is quite a character, is my friend Babu. He is the one who steers the destiny of us so many in Madras every day, in his familiar yellow-and black metal-and-canvas contraption called the 'Auto'. I personally feel he is a dropout from the Grand Prix (for violating track rules, I am sure) and used to coach Schumacher -- how else could he have qualified for a job that requires the skills of an ace racer and the colourful vocabulary of a footballer? The clogged roads of Madras do not bother Babu. He cruises by, abuse on lips, a light hand on the handle. He will navigate a hyperbolic curve with the slightest movement of his wrist. No honking motorists or bad-mouthed traffic policeman can slow this Achilles down. Neither, for that matter, can the red light. All it does is hurry him to catch on with what lies beyond... Babu doesn't like one-way signboards. When he sees one, he tries his best to remind pedestrians that they are committing a heinous crime by walking on their side of the road. Potholes or pavements, Babu will fly. As for flyovers, Babu just loves 'em -- he hogs the centre of the road and stays put, lanes be darned! Babu can be talkative. In which case, you are advised to grab a pair of earplugs (failing that, some Aspirin) from the nearest chemist's. Once started, Babu's won't stop till he has told you about his childhood, romance, pecuniary misfortunes, his wife who is too weak to work, children who study in 'Englees midiam school', his fetish for Thalaivar movies...et al. When the mood moves him, Babu can be musical too. Suddenly the two mammoth speakers in his vehicle will blare to life. You, naturally, will jump, and ask him to reduce the volume. Whereupon Babu will admonish you for your lack of music sense. Babu adorns his Auto with posters of film stars. Babu's father had displayed pictures of MGR, but Babu prefers Tamil heroines in poses that will make you blush. Babu has a versatile vocabulary, arguably much better than that of a truck driver. You can get a sample of it when he brushes a cyclist -- or by arguing with him too much about the fare. Of course, Babu is an excellent doctor when it comes to meters. While a ride from Teynampet to Central Station should cost you Rs 35, in Babu's pre-fabricated meter it can be Rs 75. If questioned Babu will blame the 'recent' petrol hikes, US presidential elections, or even the earthquake in Ulan Bator. If you persist, he will suggest that now on, a bus ride would be better for you. He may even, if he is in a good mood, inform you as to which buses would be convenient to you. Babu loves foreigners. Even anyone resembling a phirang will do for him. If you happen to have tried out your hairdresser's recommendation of burgundy colour, wear imported perfume (Babu knows it by smell, don't you worry) and step into his auto, be sure that you will be charged the airfare to Timbukto and back. Babu is like that only. He believes that fleecing foreigners is his birthright. Besides phirangs, Babu loves bandhs and bus strikes. His booty that day can send his family on a week's vacation to Kodaikanal -- but Babu usually ends up spending it on medicines, trying to wash out the effects of illicit liquor. Babu's hobbies include mangatha [a card game] and memorising Tamil magazine Kumudam. Yes, Babu is foul-mouthed, brash, boorish. But he is an inseparable part of the kaleidoscope that is Madras. Without him and his brethren, our transport system will collapse. For us, the middle-class of Madras, Babu is hero. So the next time you see him, do smile and tip lavishly. Reshma Khan promises to be back with more tales from Madras. Tell us what you think of this diary
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