A Tryst With A Neighbor

The day was Monday, the 5th of September, 2011. Arriving at the Greyhound bus station in Baltimore after an extended weekend with my friends, my eyes scanned the parking lot, expecting to see at least half a dozen, if not more of those bright yellow automobiles that wear the archetypal cap that says "taxi" on them. No, not to be. Not today at least. Within five minutes, most people had got off the bus, and it seemed they did not have other options of a ride home at 11 pm in the night, for they were quick to make a beeline for the taxis just as I did. I tell you, I have used this bus station at least ten times during my brief stay so far in this city, and not on one occasion have I seen less than 5 cabs in that stand. Today was a different day. 

The steady drizzle that had been going on since I had got off seemed to threaten to escalate into a "no holds barred" downpour as my mind quickly began to consider alternate options of reaching my residence. The next bus was 45 minutes away, and would drop me half a kilometer from my home nearly half an hour past midnight, leaving me the not so bright prospect of having to walk through a thunderstorm (which I later found out was tropical storm "Lee") at an odd hour in a city which, in the matter of safety, has a reputation that will induce doubt even in the bravest of the brave. And I was just another regular guy. 

And then, this one cab came in and pulled up by my side.

The cab driver came out, an average built, pleasant faced man with a shortish mustache and an enthusiasm that is almost inexplicable when somebody is working at 11 pm on the last night of a long weekend in this country. The first thing i noticed about him though, was that he was a south Asian (Indian/Pakistani/Bangladeshi) which is no big surprise since I have run into many Indian and Pakistani cab drivers in Baltimore. The Pakistanis I have run into generally wore a typical mustache-less beard, and something about his looks suggested to me he was Indian. But that was the last thing on my mind at that moment. Reaching home was the first. 

"Hello Sir, where are you headed?", the gentleman asked in a more friendly, than business-like tone. The accent was unmistakably Indian/Pakistani.

I gave him my address. 

He asked a couple of others as well. The deal was thus: since I was not the only one in desperate need of a ride home, he would give a ride to four of us (which is the upper limit of passengers in the taxi). The "four" included a couple and a guy (let us call him Lint, since he was headed to a place called Linthicum) in addition to me. After keeping my suitcase in the trunk, I was asked to take the front seat next to the driver, while the others were to occupy the back seat. Before we pulled away, he told us how much he would be charging us. The rates sounded perfectly reasonable and were no more than what would have been if we had taken individual cabs that charged us metered rates. 

"Is that ok, Sir?", he asked me about the rate as he started the engine.

"Umm Hmm.." I responded, the American way of saying yes; something I picked up recently.

As we pulled out of the bus station, he greeted us cheerfully, with the air of a tour guide taking his party through the first leg of their tour. 

"So, hope everyone had a great trip?" he asked, casting a quick look around to make eye contact with each of us individually.

As happens so often, nobody felt it necessary to individually respond to a question posed as generally as this one was. After a brief awkward silence with the cabbie (let us call him Eddie, from "AD" for "asian driver") expecting an answer, I obliged.

"It was good, just that our bus broke down and we got delayed by an hour.." The disgruntlement in my tone was apparent. The "it was good" part almost sounded sarcastic, now that I think of it. No one else seemed to be in any mood to engage in a conversation. Frankly, I wasn't, either.  Everyone was done for the day, as they say.

"Ummm, ok." murmured Eddie, was not sure of how to respond to this. It was obvious that he was in some mood for chat, but wasn't sure how to get things rolling. 

"So how long has it been raining here?" I asked. The weather was a universal conversation starter.

"Almost the whole day."

"Oh, is it?"

That was that. Today was definitely not the day. The conversation wasn't going anywhere.

Then there was a beeping noise that came from the dashboard.

"Aren't you wearing your seatbelt, Sir?" Eddie asked me, without taking hie eyes off the road.

I wasn't, and there was a reason.

"I couldn't find the buckle. Let me look for it again.."

After moments of fruitless groping around, I gave up. 

"Nope, can't find it."

"It is ok, it must be stuck in the door. Don't worry about it. I hope nobody gets a headache because of this sound."

Maybe he himself did. For, by the time we heard the beep for the third time, he pulled over for a brief moment while I opened the door, found what I was looking for, and buckled up. No more beeps. "Peace" was restored.

The rain was lashing down now, making visibility poor. Must have been quite a challenge to drive.

There were more attempts at conversation. 

"The routes are back to normal now. Everything was completely messed up because of the car races", he said, referring to the Grand Prix that happened here over the weekend.

"Hmmm.." I did not have anything to contribute to this string either. 

I had to look back to ensure that Lint and the couple were still in the car. Not one word so far.

Soon, we reached the place where the couple got off. With a quick thank you after paying off Eddie, they hurried up to the door in the rain.

"Hope they didn't have any luggage in the trunk!" remarked Eddie with a big grin. "Next we shall be dropping you off..", he said, looking at me. "And then I shall take you to Linthicum, Sir", he explained to Lint, "as it is in the opposite direction. Somewhere near the airport.. I will get you there in 25 minutes." Eddie shot a glance at his watch.

Then came the question that I had been half expecting to be posed to me at sometime.

"Are you Indian?" Eddie looked at me expectantly. It was almost as if an answer to the contrary would have disappointed him.

"Yes, I am from India."

"I am from Pakistan." he said almost as soon as the last syllable was out of my mouth. The joy of meeting someone from the same part of the world where he belonged announced itself on his face. And it really got him started.

"You see, India and Pakistan, they are the same people; they were the same country until 1947, when the leaders of these countries made a mistake of partition and made them two separate countries", he explained to Lint, who seemed  least interested in impromptu "world history on the go" lessons.

"The people from both these countries are wonderful, beautiful people.." Eddie was running out of adjectives. "They have everything in common, including corrupt leaders who mislead the people."
He turned to me, "Please correct me if I am wrong.."

I smiled back at him. "I absolutely agree with you."

"The leaders of these two countries continuously try to turn their people against each other for their political reasons. People want peace. Common man suffers. Leaders should be brave, strong, and leading by example. These people do not deserve to be leaders. They work for selfish goals.." He shot a quick glance at me every now and then, just to make sure he wasn't offending my sentiments in any way. The look of approval on my face was all he needed to carry on. I made sure he got it.

If Lint had even the slightest bit of interest in any of this, I must say he did an impressive job at concealing it.

"You see, while campaigning for elections, these leaders keep criticizing the western world just to make fools out of people. All the children of these leaders are studying in UK or USA. But they spread hatred of these countries back home. USA is a great country, it has given education, shelter and jobs to so many people from so many countries.."

And then out of nowhere, "But I like Anna Hazare."

He then looked back to Lint and explained, "You see, there is a gentleman in India called Anna Hazare. He is the real leader of the people. Very good man. He starved himself to protest against corruption. He wanted politicians to stop corruption.." Eddie turned to me, "Please correct me if I am wrong."

After a brief pause, he said in a slightly lower voice, as if thinking aloud, "We need people like him in Pakistan."

You know how it is when someone is on a roll. The conversation moves from one topic to another like a raft moving through a rapid - though the head of the raft looks like it is pointing towards the bank at various times in between, you know the raft is ultimately headed just one way- downstream.

The head of the raft turned for a brief second again.

"Are you a student or do you work here?", he inquired of me.

"I do research work here."

"Aah! So you are a scientist! Newton family!" He remarked, as if he had been "exposed" to more of us before. "Scientists are always problematic.." Eddie laughed at his own joke. I am not sure what he was trying to say though. Not that it mattered.

"We even speak the same language you see..", Eddie turned to explain to Lint again. The raft was going downstream indeed. See what I mean?

"We are speaking in English right now so that this guy wouldn't feel left out..", he explained to me, gesturing at Lint.

Given just how involved Lint was..

"Do you go to India every year?"

"I've been here for just four months."

"Oh! You are new here. It has been a long time since I've been to Pakistan. My life is here now." There was a faint note of resignation in his voice.

In the aftermath of the Delhi high court blasts of September 7,  2011, the events of this particular night may be deemed ludicrously irrelevant. Or, maybe it makes it all the more relevant.

We were now approaching my apartment building.

"Almost there" Eddie remarked, searching my expression for happiness that accompanies a milestone crossed.

The introductions, strangely, were saved for the end.

"May I know your good name?" He looked at me, like a school kid who is excited to have found a new friend.

"Gautam"

"I am Asad" said Eddie.

"And I am Lint", said Lint. (Just Kidding!)

"It was very nice to meet you, Gautam.", he said, shaking hands.

I reciprocated his gesture. "Nice to meet you too."

"You do good research and find something good for the world. You be good scientist." he said, no doubt with the best of intentions, but exemplifying the grossly misconceived notions the lay man holds about scientific research and people doing them.

He pulled over by the apartment building. After I had paid him, I got off, took my suitcase out of the trunk and then walked towards the front of the car again so as to catch his eye and raised my hand to gesture goodbye. He smiled generously at me, and raised his hand too, and kept it raised as he pulled away and out of sight.

I cannot for the life of me imagine what conversation he would have had with Lint for the remaining twenty minutes till they got to Linthicum.

And as I opened the door of my apartment  on that cool, windy, rainy night, something somewhere felt incredibly warm..