The Chauffeur.

The pink city Jaipur. Not quiet pink except for the old town but has a mystical quality about it. I was glad that Sarat and I decided upon Rajsthan as our vacation-destination.
Sarat being the man he is, did not want to enquire how much it would cost us to hire a cab thru the hotel. The cab already picked us up from the airport the previous night.
But I being the woman I am,I had to bother. Can you believe! They charge equivalent of $7 USD PER HOUR and that is not it. They charge you a minimum of 2 hours every time you step out, even if it is just to have a quick dinner that would take 30 mts. Hmm...rip off? Certainly.
I promptly told them that we would not need the taxi. What next? Sarat and I were all dressed to take a tour of the city and we did not have a cab to drive us around.
"You are so cheap" He began to argue. "Yes I am" I admitted without shame. But that was not done. I explained to him that Jaipur is a tourist place and taxis should be ubiquitous.
Not having a choice, he walked with me out of the hotel and we found an Auto rickshaw. The older gentleman convinced us that Auto would be a better option since we can shoot the city better (he points to the Sony DV cam Sarat was holding and the SLR that was hanging from my neck)
How did the Auto trip go? Some other time. Now for the Chauffeur.
The next day Sarat traced out a contact who happens to be a common friend. He arranged for a cab. The driver arrived with the Maruti Zen at 8 am sharp.
The Driver. I felt a sharp repulsion the moment I saw him. A thin, lanky and tall guy. Quiet young. Early twenties probably. He had a careless look on his face and his driving wasn't any different.
I told Sarat the moment we got into the car. "Let us ask for someone else, this guy looks like a trouble"
His accent was heavy. He was talking to us in a local dialect. Sounded similar to Hindi but wasn't. Looked like that is the only language he knew. He was surprised that we didn't know that language. More than surprise he actually sounded like he doubted if we are telling the truth about not knowing the language. I subtly rolled my eyes and looked out of the window determined to convince Sarat to change the chauffeur the next day.
He transformed himself form Chauffeur to a Guide. He seemed to know a lot about what is in and around the city. He drove us to a couple of palaces and revealed a grand plan to drive us to a tourist resort that night. He offered to click my camera but I declined politely. He didn't seem to mind about any thing I said, positive or negative.
He was calling me Maddum putting a lot of stress on MAD but then changed to calling me Meim Sahib later on. He seemed to talk a lot and briefed us about his auto biography in a nut shell. He did'nt attend school and so doesn't know to read or write and had an older brother that did his MA. He declared that so proudly and quickly turned back to Sarat and asked him if he could find the brother a job. Oh Well....my initial hatred was going stronger by the minute and it was actually not allowing me to enjoy the city.
It was evening and while we were all done with the day's touring and going back to the hotel, I glanced at my left wrist and let out a shriek. My gold bangle bracelet was missing from my wrist.
Sarat didn't lose his cool. "you left it in the hotel room may be" he suggested knowing how careless I am with my stuff. "no" I insisted. "It must be in your make up bag for sure" He added. "NO" I replied impatiently. Our driver looked back and asked what the matter was. I explained to him what had happened.
He seemed to explain the mystery of the missing bangle. Earlier that day I was shopping for bangles at a street vendor's stall in a park that was 30 kilometers away from where I realised the bangle was missing. He told me that he was looking at me trying on the bangles for size and wanted to warn me that the gold bangle was coming out every time I was taking out the bangles I was trying. I did remember this guy standing 5-6 feet away from me and looking at me but I didn't realise that he was actually observing the gold bangle falling out. I felt a tinge of guilt for having thought that he was just making me uncomfortable looking at me.
"I wanted to warn you then" he said. "but you were too busy"
Sarat gave up. "there are no chances of finding that mobile stall at the same place and getting our bangle back" He was sure. "Let's get back to the hotel"
The Chauffeur didn't give up. He drove us back to the park, actually talked to the security guard at the entrance (so that we didn't have to buy an entry ticket again) and went to the vendor straight. He was still there. And just one glance at me and even before I explained what happened, he took out his wallet and gave me the bangle.
I was impressed by his honesty and offered him some money. He refused. I just bought some more stuff and left.
While driving back I looked at the chauffeur from the back seat. He still looked careless to me. Certainly not repulsive this time around.
In the evening we went to that resort. Sarat insisted that he should come in with us. He stayed back for 3 hrs while we were dining and enjoying ourselves. It was past midnight by the time we came back. I did'nt talk to Sarat about changing the chauffeur. I was okay with him.
The next day he drove us thru a short cut to visit some more places. While we were driving we spotted a group of elephants that were being used to ride. Tourists were enjoying their rides on the enormous beasts.
Our chauffeur pointed to a group of Jean clad , goggled young ladies that were riding an elephant and commented 'Chale firangi ban ne"
I thought he was pointing to their hep western dressing and rolled my eyes again for his stereotype.
While Sarat was away purchasing the tickets, he came to me and started talking about how the animals are confined to these narrow streets and how ill fed they are all that. Just then a group of people in desi clothes passed by on an elephant and he exclaimed "Loh, yeh bhi bane firangi"
He was an animal activist was'nt judgemental about the dressing style afterall!

We became fast friends with the Chauffeur. He was with us the for the next two day. I started to appreciate the idealistic lad in him and discovered the child-like aspect to that rough, rugged exterior - His compassion for animals and child labourers, His secularism when he stopped at a Dargah and told us that he believed in that baba and his love for nature and keeping it clean and his honesty.

It is strange how deceptive looks can be. It is stranger how we judge people on how they look and how they speak. This guy is illiterate but was a lot more cultured than most people I met.

We took his phone number down so that he could be of help if someone we know would travel to Rajasthan.

I am trying to remember his name. I will never forget though, the lesson he taught me. I will never ever judge a book by its cover.