The second in my Delhi auto-walla series:
So, there we are, on Teen Murti Road, looking for an auto to take us to Mughal Gardens, at the President's estate. It couldn't have been more than a couple of kilometres, and no auto-walla was willing to take us by the meter.
One saggy-jowled fellow finally agreed to take us for 20 rupees "Meter isn't working, madam."
It wasn't fair, but he was asking for only 10 percent more than the metre fare wouldn've been, and we weren't in the mood to haggle, so we hopped on.
Near the Parliament, he stopped and said he could go no further. The auto wasn't allowed further, he claimed.
Before I paid him off, I mentioned to him that he should get his meter fixed.
Pocketing the money I'd just handed over, he grinned a charming grin, "Where's the point, madam? I not going to do this long. In fifteen days, I'll be driving an Indica."
I suddenly regretted having paid him his ten percent marked-up fare.
And now, of course, I am furious because once we began to walk to Mughal Garden, we walked and walked and walked. And (huff, puff) walked, all the way round the central secretariat, and some five circuitous kilometres later, to Mughal Gardens.
There, all the autos our tired ankles desired were lined up, right outside.
And to think the auto-walla is driving his own Indica by now...