John had been driving a taxi in New Delhi since the day he got his driver's license when he turned 18 years old. Well, officially since then. In reality, he had been driving since he was 16 years old, long before everyone had GPS enabled smartphones. He knew every road and every street in the big metropolis. Even now, he used the maps only to give comfort to the passengers. He trusted his own instincts better than the map. He knew which routes were better at what time of the day. He knew which roads to avoid if it was a festival or a public holiday. With John, you could be assured that he would take you to your destination in the shortest possible time.
John loved driving. He had recently bought a new car, and he loved it like his own child. He cleaned it himself, dusted the seats, put images of Gods of all religions on his dashboard, and lit some incense every morning.
Meeting new passengers was a delight for him, most of the time, at least. Like most taxi drivers, he served as a sounding board or an agony aunt for many people. Every day he had fascinating tales to tell about his passengers. He firmly believed that after so many years, there was nothing that he could hear or see that would surprise or shock him anymore. He felt that he had seen it all and heard it all, until one day, when he saw her.
It was a Friday evening. John was waiting outside the bar frequented by young men and women. This was an excellent place to be on a Friday night. Many young office goers drank themselves to the brim to celebrate the coming of the weekend. When they were too drunk to drive themselves, they looked around for a taxi. Since the day John had bought the new car, the number of passengers he got outside these high-end bars had suddenly shot up.
He waited outside the bar, just across the street. He had chosen this spot after many months of research. The light from the bar and the street lamp shone on his car, and the reflection made it seem even newer than it was. The angle from the exit door was also perfect. It was the first car that would come to any person's view. Right next to it stood an old sedan, with scratches on its door and dents on its bonnet. This belonged to the shop owner opposite the bar, in comparison to which his car seemed like the perfect ride.
This Friday, as he sat in his car, eyes fixated on the exit door of the bar, dressed in his best Friday clothes, he saw her coming out. The yellow light outside the bar shone on her. She wore a bright red dress that accentuated her curvaceous figure. She was looking around. Her dark brown hair, curled at the edges, flew around her face as she turned her head. She put one hand on her slim waist and brushed her hair from her face with the other. Her eyes rested on John’s car. Her red lips parted in a smile as she waved her slender hand and summoned him.
"Hey, taxi," she called out. The words fell on his ears like small beads falling in a perfect rhythm.
In a trance, he took out his hand in acknowledgment. It was a code that the drivers used to show that they had heard and agreed to the request. He saw his friend smiling at him and winking.
He stared at her, hypnotized by her looks. There was a knock on the car window. He rolled the glass down, still gazing through the windshield at the woman, who was now talking to one of her friends, then hugging her and saying goodbye. John was unable to take his eyes off her.
“Will you go to Jaipur?” came a deep voice. John was shaken awake from his reverie. He turned his eyes towards the window. A dark-complexioned face, with a slightly overgrown beard, black eyes, a square jaw, a face handsome in its very ruggedness, was looking inside. He seemed familiar, but John could not remember where he had seen him.
“Jaipur? At this time of the night?” John asked. “It will cost you double the fare.”
“Double? Are you crazy? We will find some other cab,” he said. His breath reeked of alcohol. He stumbled a few steps back.
“Come on now, Rahul. This is a good car. It looks new. For the long ride, it will be comfortable. Pay him, and let's get going." The voice sounded like wind chimes in a soft breeze.
Rahul! That’s why he seemed familiar to John. This was the owner of Rahul Industries.
“Why did you have to tell the driver to leave? You know I don’t really like going in taxis, especially longer distances,” said Rahul.
"It's ok, darling. I love it when you get all angry and flustered," the woman laughed merrily. "How could we make the driver go to Jaipur when his son is not well? Come on now, taxis are not bad. I traveled on taxis and buses all my life before I met you."
Rahul and the woman sat down in the passenger seat and waved goodbye to their friends who were hailing some other taxis, and John started on the 300km drive to Jaipur.
He adjusted the rear-view mirror so that it focussed on the woman’s eyes. He could not keep his gaze away from those hazel eyes, the long black lashes, the perfect arc of the brows. He was mesmerized by how they lit up and radiated a sense of excitement and energy every time she spoke.
She looked at Rahul and batted her eyelids flirtatiously. John stiffened as he saw him put his arm around her shoulder, and bring her a little closer. He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel, a stab of jealousy hitting him.
In a few moments, he reflected on the stupidity of his own reaction and increased the speed of the car. He decided to focus only on the road ahead. It was a smooth road, some heavy vehicle traffic at this time of the night, but not too much. The sooner the trip was over, the better, he thought.
But the mind cannot control the heart. And before he knew it, John’s eyes had darted back to the rear-view mirror, searching for those beautiful innocent eyes. He readjusted the mirror to focus on her again as she sunk in closer to Rahul, her head resting on his broad shoulders. Occasionally, she slowly opened her eyelids, looked around for a few moments, and then closed them again. John noticed how she turned her eyes up to look at Rahul's sleeping face.
Once she looked at the mirror and saw John staring at her. He quickly turned away, his cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment. What would she think?
She laughed gently and said in a whisper, careful not to wake up her companion. “It’s ok. Don’t be embarrassed. Focus on the road in front, will you?”
John immediately turned the mirror away from her face. He turned back only when he heard her fumbling inside the back pockets of the car. “You looking for something, ma’am?” he asked.
“Nothing, just my purse. Oh, here it is,” she said, smiling, holding up her purse close to John's head. He could smell her lavender perfume. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He wanted this moment to be etched in his memory forever.
Her laughter, as she looked at him, broke his train of thought, and he looked in front again, attentive to the road. He couldn't understand why he felt like this. He had driven many beautiful women. What was so different about this one that made him act like a high school boy?
He sipped some water from his bottle. The road had become quite dark. It was a moonless night, and the street lamps in this part were out of order. This was a stretch of road where there were no houses or restaurants for some distance. He needed his full attention now.
“Can you stop for a few minutes,” came the jingling voice, sweetness overflowing in every syllable.
"Sure. You want to stop here?" he said, slowing down the car and moving towards the side.
“Yes, I want to stretch my legs a bit.”
"It is very dark here. In a few minutes' drive, you can find some restaurants that will still be open. It will be more lighted out there.”
“No. It’s just for a few minutes. You can stop here,” she said as she gently nudged Rahul to wake him from his slumber.
John shrugged and stopped the car. It was pitch dark outside, with only a few stars twinkling in the darkness. A little way ahead, small lights from the restaurants could be seen. It was only when a vehicle passed by that the area was momentarily flooded with light. Vast expanses of fields, interspersed with trees, stretched out on either side of the road. There were neither people nor shops nearby. John turned his car lights on, feeling a little uncomfortable in the quiet darkness.
“Can you switch off the lights, please? I want to enjoy the darkness. You don’t get it in the city.”
"Sure ma'am," John said, switching off the lights. He turned off the car engine, rolled down the windows, and sat lazily on the seat as the couple got out of the car, hand in hand.
They both walked towards the fields, looking up at the sky. John saw her pointing at some star, extending her delicate arm. The soft laughter stirred him to the core. What would he not give to be in place of that man right now? He looked in the mirror. He was not bad to look at. He might not be as rugged or muscular as this nemesis of his or have his seductive eyes, but he had a quality of honesty written all over his face.
He turned his head again to look towards the couple. They had probably gone further ahead, perhaps behind the clump of trees. He could not see them anywhere. He waited for them, wondering if they had decided to run off without paying him the fare. He did not even have their number. He laughed at the foolish thought. They had enough money to buy him and his car ten times over, and not even flinch while doing it.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited, looking towards the fields every few seconds. What would he say if a policeman came along? This was not a place where people usually stopped.
He stopped the drumming when he heard the sound of running feet. He saw the girl's silhouette, holding her high-heeled sandals in her hands, running barefoot towards the car. A truck passed them by, and in its light, he saw that her hair was disheveled, there was mud on her cheeks. She turned back as if afraid of being followed.
“Start the car,” she shrieked.
John quickly turned the keys and opened the back door and the woman slid inside and banged the door shut. She was breathing heavily, her cheeks a little flushed.
“Step on it. Let’s go,” she said, her voice filled with anxiety and urgency.
John started moving. “What about Rahul Sir? Is he not coming?” It was his duty to ask about his passengers, whether he liked them or not.
"No. He is not. Speed it up, and let's go back to Delhi. I will pay you whatever you ask for."
He drove for a few minutes in silence. The anger against Rahul growing inside him, waiting to burst forth like lava in a volcano. Then he could not hold it in any longer. He had to ask.
“Did he hurt you, miss? I can go back and put him in his place if you want. Did he try to take advantage?” His voice trembled in anger as he spoke through his gritted teeth.
John was not a man to fight. He had never been in a fight before and had always avoided physical confrontations. But this was different. He could kill for this woman.
“Thank you for your concern, but it’s ok. Please drive fast. I want to reach home and not think of this again.”
John hated the man. He looked at the poor girl's eyes in the rear-view mirror. How could anyone even think of harming an angel like her, with her large beautiful eyes and mellifluous voice? That man must have been a monster. All these rich people, thinking that their money gives them the right to do anything.
He cursed Rahul under his breath as he drove swiftly in the direction from which he had come only a little while ago.
The woman looked at him, pensively, "I am sorry if I seemed a little abrupt earlier. I am in quite a shock. Are you angry at Rahul?"
He looked at her eyes, opened wide – how innocent they seemed and how bewitching. He could look at them all day, every day, and still not get bored.
"Yes, I am ma'am. I can't stand men who don't respect women. I can take you to the police station if you want to file any complaint."
She smiled at him, and his heart fluttered. What would he not do for this smile?
“I think we have come far enough. Can you please stop for a while? I want some fresh air. My head is spinning.”
John stopped the car. There was barely any traffic at this hour.
The woman touched his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt an electric current pass through his entire body.
“Don’t you want to straighten your legs for a bit?” she said.
He had a rule that he had successfully followed over the years – never to leave the car when he was with a passenger. But what could he do when she spoke in that voice? How could he not do what she wanted him to do? Rules are meant to be broken, after all.
He stepped out and stood at a little distance from her. He shook his legs and breathed in the cool breeze. She came a little closer so that he could smell her lavender perfume. He could feel her hair touch his shoulder as it blew in the wind. She ran her fingers through her hair, and as she did so, her elbow touched John’s shoulder. He gasped. She noticed the gasp and laughed merrily.
“You know what? I think you are right. I will go to the police station to file a complaint.”
John turned towards her and smiled – a mixture of embarrassment for wearing his feelings on his sleeve and happiness that she had accepted his suggestion. Their eyes locked for a second. It was too much for him. He quickly averted his gaze and started looking towards the ground, kicking pebbles with his feet, entirely at a loss about what he should say or do.
"You are a nice person, John," she said, leaning towards him to read his name on the ID card affixed to his shirt. "I like you."
John stood there like a statue. A thousand emotions were doing a roller coaster in his head, and a thousand poems were dancing on his lips, yet outwardly, it seemed he had become a stone. He could not open his lips and take out any sound. All he could do was stare at her with eyes full of love and adoration.
“One minute,” she said as she walked towards the car.
John stood there, his back towards the car, eyes on the ground. His heart felt light. He could not stop smiling. He felt like a teenager in love, overpowered by strong emotions that he was unable to control. He closed his eyes and took in deep breaths to calm down his nerves. His brain worked overtime to think of what he would say once she came back.
Should he try to hold her hand? Would she think it’s too forward? After all, she just had an unpleasant experience with that Rahul. He decided against it. There would be a lot of time later to hold hands. He thought of all the places he would take her in Delhi over the next few weeks. He wondered how he would meet her parents and what he would say to them. He was a mere taxi driver, after all. Perhaps he would take up some courses and find a job in some company. Everybody had told him he was smart and intelligent. That's what he would do, he resolved.
His reverie was broken when he heard his car’s engine coming to life. He turned back instinctively, only to see the woman driving away in his car. He ran after it, waving his hands frantically, shouting loudly, but the car didn’t stop. He stood there, in the middle of the highway, stunned to the core, seeing the lights of his car disappear into the darkness.
He couldn't understand what had happened. Had he said something? No, he had wanted to say something, but he could not say anything. Was it the way he behaved? Was it because he did not say anything that she went off? He was utterly mystified by the woman's behavior.
He checked his pockets. His phone was also in the car, and there was no town close-by. He sat on a small rock by the roadside and waited for a truck to give him a ride into the city. He managed to reach his home in the early hours of the morning. The truck driver had dropped him on the highway closest to his house. From there, he had managed to find a taxi to his home.
As he stepped inside his home, he realized he was starving. He quickly ate something. He was too tired, mentally, and physically. He decided to sleep first and go to the police station, first thing in the morning to file a complaint. He fell on his bed, his limbs totally exhausted, unable to move. He closed his eyes, but sleep did not come easily to him. The woman's image kept swimming in front of his eyes, her full red lips, bright smile, and large doe-like eyes. Her musical laughter rang in his ears.
He thought of the look she had given him when they were standing outside the car. He was sure that look meant something. He was almost certain that she, too, felt a warmth for him. “You are a nice person, John. I like you,” she had said. He repeated the sentence a hundred times in his mind. Every time it became sweeter than before.
His documents were in the car, so she had his contact details. He was confident he could make up for whatever he had done to upset her, which made her drive off. He hoped to get a call from her sometime during the day when she would explain everything to him. He would apologize if needed.
He would hold those soft hands,caress those gorgeous curls, look into those innocent eyes, and tell her that he would take care of her from now on and never do anything to hurt her.
He smiled as he closed his eyes, and finally fell asleep, thinking of what his future could be.
Knock. Knock.
A loud banging on his door roused him from his sleep. He picked up the clock from the small table by the bed. It was just 8 o’clock. Who could it be at this hour?
Was it her? Perhaps she was in trouble. Or maybe she had come to return the car.
He quickly got up from his bed. The banging on the door continued.
“I am coming! One minute!” he shouted.
He looked at himself in the mirror and quickly straightened his hair with his fingers. He took out some peppermint and popped it in his mouth. You wouldn’t want the girl to coil back because of stale breath now, would you?
Then, straightening his shirt, he walked towards the door with a wide smile. What would his friends say when they saw them together? They would die of jealousy.
He opened the door, expecting the angelic face of the girl with her twinkling eyes. Instead, there stood two policemen, with handcuffs and a gun pointing right at his head.
They shoved him inside. "Don't try to escape or do anything foolish," said the one who had the gun pointed at his head, while the other started going through his drawers.
“What is happening? Will someone please tell me? You can’t come inside anybody’s home and point guns at them. I am a legitimate citizen of this country. I have rights,” said John eventually, finding his voice.
"Where is your car, Mr John?"
“My car? Well, it is funny because I was about to come to the station to file a complaint about it. I will tell you what happened." He explained the previous day's events to them and how he had been left on the highway and somehow managed to find a ride home. "You can ask the truck driver. I don't have his name, but I am sure you can get the details from the CCTV footage at the toll plaza that we crossed while entering Delhi."
“Interesting story Mr John. Ms Tina, however, has told us what really happened last night – how you stopped the car in a dark place, how you attacked Mr and Mrs Rahul, how you killed Mr Rahul and drove off with his wife, stopped again at a lonely, dark place, probably to take advantage of her, and how she managed to run off in your car.”
John’s legs gave way as he sank on the floor. What was this story? What was he hearing? Who was this Tina?
“Do you have anything to say?”
“Killed Rahul? Attacked Tina? I never met a ‘Tina’, and I have not killed a fly in my life, let alone a human being. Ask anyone who knows me. Why would I kill him? He was with a lady last night. She asked me to stop at that place, and so I did. They both went away, and only the lady returned, running away from Rahul. I drove away with her because she wanted to escape from him.”
"As I said, interesting story. We found a knife near Rahul's body. It has your fingerprints. Recognize this?" the policeman said, showing a photograph on his mobile.
"Yes, I do. This is the knife I keep at the back of my car, in the pocket behind the driver's seat. I use it to cut fruits or carrots when I do not have time to eat a proper meal."
"Yes, of course, you do," the policeman smirked. "Or you use it to kill people when they try to defend themselves."
"What are you saying, Inspector? Why don’t you ask the lady who was there in the car? She will tell you the truth.”
“Do you mean her? Ms Tina, can you please come in?” said the policeman waving at someone inside the house.
The lady in the red dress entered the small apartment. John's eyes grew bright as he saw her. She looked around, and the first thing that John thought was how untidy his room was, with clothes strewn on the floor and the chair, dirty plates on the table. He wished he had cleaned it the day before. He looked at her.
"Ma'am, are you ok? Why did you run off last night?" he asked in a soft voice, almost forgetting his predicament, forgetting that policemen were pointing a gun at him. He mustered the courage to get up and walk towards her.
“Stay where you are, mister,” said the sharp voice of the policeman.
He stopped in his tracks. “Ma’am, please tell them what happened. They are saying some ridiculous things.”
“He is the man, Inspector,” came the voice. It was melodious as ever, jingling in its softness, yet it trembled as if she was afraid. Her eyes opened wide with fear, stared at John, then turned towards the policeman. She ran behind the policeman as if seeking protection, fearing for her life. "He is the one who killed my Rahul, my husband. I don't know what he would have done if I had not managed to escape from him."
John looked at her. "What are you saying? Why are you doing this?” he mumbled, unable to understand the turn his life had taken.
"Don't worry, ma'am," said the policeman, staring at her beautiful eyes. "I will protect you. I will not let any harm come to you.”
She batted her eyelids and smiled gratefully at him. She held his hand, and he shivered visibly under the soft touch of the gorgeous lady. "Thank you so much, Inspector," she said. "You are a nice man. Now, I can mourn in peace, knowing that you have this monster in your custody."
They all walked away. The handcuffed John, with one of the policemen dragging him, walked towards the police car, while Ms Tina walked towards a waiting BMW, with a logo of Rahul Industries, accompanied by the other Inspector at her heels.
The policeman opened the car door and shoved John inside. John’s eyes were riveted on Tina. She was climbing inside her own car, the Inspector helping her at every step, smiling widely, and closing the door after her.
As the BMW sped past the police car, the new heiress of Rahul Industries looked towards John. He saw her steely eyes glistening in the sun’s rays entering through the car window – devoid of the innocence. She mouthed “Sorry” and touched her ears with her fingers, smiling merrily while John laughed hysterically at the foolishness of the future he had dreamt in the last twelve hours and the reality that lay in front of him for the rest of his life.
