Otto rik shaaaaaaa

The other day when my neighbour was talking to her mother on a long distance call to India, I just started feeling home sick. Missing home and parents is one thing, but I should be ashamed to tell that although I was missing my mom, dad, brothers, family and everyone at home in India... I was just getting more and more nostalgic about the Autorickshaws, missing them like never ever before.

I remember solemnly taking an oath once while in India, to get the Autorickshaws to get out of the street. While riding the two wheeler, on the bumpy streets and narrow gullies of Bangalore, you will never fancy being obstructed by the hoardes of those black and yellow ( not the kaali peeli Taxis as you call in Delhi) auto rickshaws. With all the messages of Love that they advertise on their backs, these Auto rickshaws, far from being any symbols of love and affection were only just blockages on an otherwise would have been smooth traffic. Sometimes overfilled with all the little school children and sometimes blowing out tons of gas (or whatever you call it), these autorickshaws can paint you black and soot without a paint brush indeed.

I did miss the Idly Dosa Darshinis for all the fanfare they offered at throwaway prices and all that was called as narial Pani. I also missed the Bhel puri and the potato bondas sold be some famous "ramanna" in a crowded yet so lively Chickpet. But most of all that, I am ashamed indeed to state that i miss the Auto rickshaws. The luxury of just waving a hand and relaxing while it will carry you to your destination. Sometimes the chatty driver would strike off a conversation or two maybe about the weather in Bangalore or about the new Kannada movies. Sometimes if you are lucky enough it could well be on a topic that you have good command on.

But the Autos, I miss them more than anything else. For one reason I hate to go and wait for those Buses everyday, which never fail the timings that they are scheduled for or to walk back tired and sleepy from the tube station with a hand full of shopping bags pushing Dhairya happily sleeping in his buggy. I miss mom, but i talk to her every now and then. I miss the Pani puris, but alas I can make them myself. But the Autos...alas, where do I get a substitute for the Auto....