…and 7 scenes…
Scene 1 – 9:30 AM – A suave gentleman in a Louie Philippe shirt and a Zodiac tie approaches a taxi to take him to his office. The smell of Gillette Storm Force is still lingering as he closes the door.
And as the journey begins, he pulls out his PDA and starts communicating with his colleagues on how best to close the next sales deal. The taxi driver is listening, attempting to understand “revenue”, “sales cycle” and “competition”, but never fully aware of the gentleman’s chronic Stage 2 of Hypertension…
Scene II – 11:00 AM – Two teenage college girls, in tank-tops and jeans, board this taxi to drop them at the nearest movie theatre. The smell of Dolly Girl and Ralph Lauren Romance perfumes is still lingering as they close the door.
On their way to the theatre, they chit-chat and giggle about overbearing moms, acnes, sunsilkgangofgirls.com, SPF lipsticks, boys…
The taxi driver is listening, smiling to himself at times, but never fully aware of one of the girls’ drinking habits…
Scene III – 1:00 PM – A middle-aged woman and her 7 year old son hail this taxi to reach home from the son’s school. The smell of mud, books, and Adidas PT shoes is still lingering as they close the door.
They talk about homework, angry teachers, the son’s friends and dad’s indifference…
The taxi driver nods at times and then disapproves as he searches for his own kid’s words inside his taxi, never fully aware of the bullies in the little boy’s class…
Scene IV – 4:00 PM – An old man in a light grey flannel suit calls the taxi to reach the telephone exchange. The smell of ruffled papers and Emami hair oil is still lingering as he closes the door.
He talks to the taxi driver about ridiculous phone bills, painful government offices, and his wife who never listens to him. The taxi driver seems to understand most of the old man’s gripes, but is never fully aware of that one stranger’s number, who his daughter has been calling for the past one year…
Scene V – 7:00 PM – A recently married couple calls the taxi to reach Bandstand.The smell of fading henna and thick ivory bangles is still lingering as they close the door.
And the taxi driver feigns ignorance at the sounds of quick breaths and swiftly moving hands in the backseat, searching, finding, hoping…
He trudges along on the jammed roads, never fully aware that the woman’s past is about to catch up with her…
Scene VI – 10 PM – Two mid-twenties girls step inside to reach an uptown disc. The smell of permed hair, stilettos, Chanel No 5 and Christian Dior is still lingering as they close the door.
They blabber about fake jewellery, the rates at Kaya skin clinic, anti-hangover pills, Cosmopolitan, and men…
The taxi driver is pretty much clueless about the entire conversation but can’t help adjusting his rear-view mirror once in a while, never fully aware that one of the women is a kleptomaniac…
Scene VII – 2 AM – A bar-girl is escorting a totally sloshed early 30s guy into the taxi. The smell of Green Label, butter chicken, kaajal and dried tears is still lingering as the driver closes their door.
The guy is staring up at the taxi roof, searching for the bar lights there. The taxi driver is staring at the almost-empty road, searching for sleep. The girl is staring out her window, searching for nothing. No words are spoken throughout, and the taxi driver is fully aware of what the rest of the night is looking like…
It must be odd, to catch a nap after all that. When disconnected fragments of the lives of so many people flash around you in a day. It’s like gazing through a huge, rusted kaleidoscope, looking at the light through multi-colored glasses, never knowing the complete picture, yet being drenched in every taint that the kaleidoscope has to offer. And these tinges change day after day, night after night, stranger after stranger, with the only constant companion of the taxi driver being the faithful meter, which of course never minds being turned over, and over again…
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