Salman, My Friend, the Taxi Driver from India

Short inspirational story

Dave Magee, Newbury, NH

Salman My Friend the Taxi Driver from India

India is humbling place. Before I had left the States, I packed six granola bars, fully expecting to eat them during the five-day trip to Mumbai. Today, I brought the granola bars with me to the exhibit hall, knowing that when it was time for me to depart, I would be mauled by kids, no older than eight to ten years old, hungry and wanting money, food, water, anything. I left the conference around 5:00pm and began my walk to the taxi stand. It is approximately two hundred yards to the gates that separate the exhibition grounds from the rest of Mumbai. The young children surrounded me and for five seconds I felt like Kris Kringle while I handed out the last granola bar. Then reality slapped me in the face. When I looked up, I saw the expressions of the half dozen children who didn't get anything. What a horrible feeling that was. It is worth noting that Mumbai is a vibrant city, expanding, building, renewing itself and taking advantage of its new found economic success. Amongst the streets, the exhibit halls, the hotels and airports, I have come to conclude that the people are overwhelmingly happy in India. The children continued to follow me as I changed my focus to finding a taxi driver whom I could trust. How does one choose a taxi driver amongst the chaos within one of the most overcrowded cities? There are countless private chauffeurs offering cheap rides. Rickshaw drivers vie for your attention offering deals, one better than the next, verbally quoting fees without even hearing of your destination. Then of course there remains the dozens of little children hungry for a meal and begging every foreigner for a nickel. All this activity created significant distractions and making it hard to focus. At random, I found a taxi driver to take me from the exhibit hall back to the hotel. I certainly had trepidation. Selfish thoughts consumed me while I was hoping for honesty, trust and safety, especially considering how they drive around the streets of Mumbai. There are no painted lanes. Drivers go through intersections when the light is red, and not
Dave Magee, Newbury NH bigcitystudios@gmail.com 1

Salman My Friend the Taxi Driver from India

only to pick up a few seconds as the traffic light transitions, but literally ignoring the traffic light depending on their individual agendas. There are times that I could roll down my window, reach out to the adjacent car and comfortably shake the other persons hand. Thats how close some of these vehicles get to one another, even at speeds of forty and fifty miles per hour. In picking a taxi driver amongst the chaos, you have to rely on instinct. I look for a friendly face, and base my decision on the expression in their eyes. A persons eyes tell a lot about their honesty, and Salman turned out to be a trustworthy, short-term guide for my forty minute journey. It is always wise when traveling in a foreign city to check with the hotel concierge to estimate what an equitable cab fare might be from and to the hotel. I was told four hundred rupees from the Bombay Exhibition Center. So, the first thing I said to Salman was as much a statement as it was a question, "three hundred rupees to the Hyatt?" using the basic principles of negotiation by starting low and knowing there would be a counter offer. Salman said, "Five hundred. Let's go." but before he took another step I stopped him and said, "Four hundred. That's it." as I tried to establish that I was leading this negotiation, and Salman said calmly and confidently, "I have air conditioning, four fifty, let's go." The kids swarmed me once again, and Salman's reaction surprised me. He politely and very gently told them to leave, and much to my surprise, the children respectfully did as they were told. We got in the cab, and then it quickly occurred to me that he had triple parked the car against the curb. I was a little taken aback and wondered if the four hundred fifty rupees that we had negotiated would cover the extra time parked, and then I realized he had gotten the upper hand in our negotiations. There was a period of four to five minutes that we didn't move an inch while we waited for a few other cabbies to return to their cars. Homeless children pressed their faces against the glass, tapping gently for attention during the interim. The second kind act of Salman surprised me once again. While we sat there waiting, he reached down below his seat and grabbed two coins
Dave Magee, Newbury NH bigcitystudios@gmail.com 2

Salman My Friend the Taxi Driver from India

worth fifty paise each. It is the total equivalent of maybe two cents. Salman rolled down the window and gave it to one of the kids. The taxi remained reasonably quiet inside as we pulled away from the curb. There was only the sound of the two cylinder engine gyrating as the RPM's revved up to the next gear. He drove us about a mile and then Salman spoke. "It was a very nice thing you did, giving those kids the food. They are very naughty". I paused with that comment and thought to myself, Salman had been observing me. I guess it is no surprise that cab drivers have some dangerous moments in their lives with bad customers, and maybe they were judging me in the same way I would be judging them. In addition, his words confused me, and so I asked Salman what he meant by "naughty". He told me that, this is their place for which God has placed them in this world. They are homeless and they beg, which makes them naughty. I still found that to be a striking dichotomy filtered into one thought. Still confused by his statement and belief, we continued to talk while stuck in traffic. Again more children lining the perimeter of the car, but this time it was too dangerous to roll down the window, for at any moment the traffic would be moving again, and the kids needed to scatter in order to avoid getting hit by the onslaught of cars headed in both directions. It is also worth noting that Salman is a young man of seventeen or eighteen years of age. He left his last year at St. Mary's school to work for his father. Salmans father owns the taxi for which we were in, but as it turns out, his father was sick and couldnt work. Salman needed to provide for his family, including two younger siblings. The more interesting point he made is that he is Muslim, but goes to St. Mary's, a Catholic school, because, "it is the second best school in Mumbai, next to St. Josephs." According Salman, he considers himself lucky to have gone there, and he intends to go back. Another stoplight and another round of children swarming the car. This time we were stopped for the full duration of the traffic light. Salman handed out more coins while I gave away a bag of dehydrated apples to
Dave Magee, Newbury NH bigcitystudios@gmail.com 3

Salman My Friend the Taxi Driver from India

a young boy who didn't know what to make of the treat as he curiously held it up to the sunlight. A few minutes later we arrived at the hotel gate. I gladly paid Salman five hundred rupees and hoped he would either turn the extra money into coins or go back to St. Marys some time soon. What a life, huh? I said good bye to an extra one hundred rupees and you'd think I gave him the winning lottery ticket. He gave me his cell phone number and told me if I ever need a taxi that he will personally drive me any where I want to go and wait for me until I need to return. I was still thinking about that statement and whether or not I should call him for a ride to the airport on the next day. What a story that would be if he actually waited until my return to Mumbai. There are a lot of Salman's here in India. I guess it was me watching him calmly and benevolently dealing with these kids that made me believe his eyes were not lying when I first bumped into him, looking for an honest cab. Or, maybe it was seeing him offer the few coins that he could spare and give them freely to children even less fortunate than himself, which forced me to believe this young man deserved a good life. Or, maybe I was wrong on all fronts, and Salman believed he already has a good life because of his conviction in Gods will. This was my day. The rest of the events remain a distant blur. But my time with Salman was one of those memorable, lasts a lifetime kind of a day; like your first kiss, or the birth of your children or when you realize that sometimes there is a purpose in everything that happens in your life. We just need to observe it a little more closely, and trust that most people in this world are like Salman. 2012

Dave Magee, Newbury NH bigcitystudios@gmail.com