It is 8:50 am. I am in the bazaar. Walking down the road, I notice some shops have opened while some shops have not, the rows of mini passenger trucks parking and waiting to fill up their seats. There are people coming to the bazaar as well as people leaving the bazaar. The bazaar is one of the places where one can meet people from all walks of life. Mini passenger trucks, buses, two wheelers, school vans, auto rickshaws etc have all spread out on the road like bees flying out from their hives. As I reach the auto parking, one of the auto drivers shouts, “Khumbong, Khumbong!”. I hop onto this auto. This auto rickshaw I boarded can hold upto 11 people including the driver’s seat. Every auto driver wants to fill up his 10 passenger seats before driving. The auto I boarded is half filled.
The auto uncle tries to get more passengers. He asks every passer by in the area,“ Where are you going?”. If the person replies with a place other than Khumbong, the auto uncle points out the parking spot of the auto the passerby wants. On certain days I notice the auto drivers quarrelling for some reason and there are days when I see them helping each other. I could sense their brotherhood. After filling up all the seats, the auto heads out for Khumbong. As this three wheeler vehicle drives, I notice various women vendors selling their vegetables on the footpath.
Inside the auto, I ponder on the different lives of the various passengers. There are all sorts of passengers- school going teenagers, middle-aged women returning home from the bazaar with their wholesale goods to sell them in their localities, students returning home from their coaching centres, children with their parents etc. Each one of us lives different lives and here we are intertwined in this auto. I hop out from the auto after reaching my destination. The auto uncle charges me a sum of thirty rupees for travelling a distance of 6.7 kilometres. Autos and all the transportation vehicles form a crucial part of the bazaar. Like how the red blood cells in our body transfer oxygen throughout the body, autos and other transportation vehicles are like the red blood cells of the market.
The auto uncle works hard all day to meet the needs of his family. With his hard-earned money, he sends his children to school and puts food on the table. There is no such thing as the more important job. Every job whether it is a white collar job or blue collar job or whatever collar job are all important and play a crucial role in our society. It is a must that we respect every job out there as long as it is legal and honest. It pains me on hearing news about delivery workers or drivers being disrespected. I think of how the pandemic must have been so difficult for auto drivers and all those who depend on the bazaar.
I am lucky to have had online classes during the lockdown. But all these auto drivers don’t have the option of working from home. With the recent news of coronavirus delta variant outbreak, it scares me that a lot of people will be out of their jobs again. All in all riding the auto is such a humbling and exciting experience. I look forward to it everyday.
By: Nirmala Pebam
