Old Man & the City

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Whenever I read in the newspapers it is the Valentine's Day, I recall with trepidation that my car insurance renewal is due.

When I brought my old car from KGP to Hyderabad half a dozen years ago and wanted to get its registration (necessarily) changed from WB to AP, I had to go through such hassles at our RTA Office here that I avoid it as long as I can. The trouble with our RTA folks in Hyderabad is that they look so dead earnest and stern that they scare me...I feel like that urchin who stole his partner's readings and is about to be chastised. There appear to be no touts and agents, unlike in WB. At KGP I had to go to the RTA Office at Midnapore only once...to take my driving test. Everything else (including half-yearly pollution tests) were done from home...by my Agent in absentia.

The Clerk at the RTA Office here scowls all the time and asks me for my Residence Proof. Unfortunately I didn't have any so far. All valid documents like the latest Gas Receipt and BSNL Landline Bill are in my son's name (he shifted here a year before I did). And when I say this to him, the Clerk looks thoughtfully at me and asks me to bring my son's passport along with his Gas Receipt...saying the Gas Receipt is for my son's residence proof and his passport for proof that I am indeed his father. Luckily, my son (unlike me) does have a passport and my name is indeed there...otherwise the RTA chap might have asked for a DNA test.

So far, we have been like birds of passage in this big city, changing rented homes every now and then and ought to have visited the RTA Office every once in a while for getting the change of address incorporated in the Registration Certificate. We decided not to do it till we get a permanent home address. Illegal, but imperative. So, every Valentine's Day when I visit my Insurance Company in Ameerpet and the ma'am there politely asks if my address remains as it was 6 years ago, I put on a straight face and say, "Yes". And till last year, she used to ask me to wait, pay the cash and she would hand over to me my new Policy in ten minutes.

Last year, when I went through the drill and asked her for my Policy after an hour of waiting, and she said, "Oh, no! We are no longer allowed to hand over the Policy to customers...our Head Office at Begumpet will post it to you in two days", there was a lump in my throat. I had to go to our earliest rented apartment in SR Nagar, ring the bell, and when the young lady answered it, switch on my disarming smile and ask her to kindly keep my Policy that arrives in two days when I would revisit her and collect it...she was so nice.

We have recently moved to our 'own' home which does have my name along with my son's in our Home Registration which ought to serve as my Residence Proof...but I haven't had the time and inclination to visit the RTA Office to get the address changed without needing my son's passport. But the insurance cover is expiring and I had to get it renewed forthwith which meant a trip to Ameerpet, 25 kilometers away on the notorious Bombay Highway.

I would have driven down there, but nowadays the highway is chock-a-block with traffic diversions due to the construction of our impending Metro (I recall what we had to go through when we had to visit Cal half a century ago). I could have called my 'auto' chap who would come and take me anywhere in Hyderabad @ Rs 500 for four hours but I was in a mood to explore the 'janata' transport...the weather is still not warm...just pleasant.

So, I parked my car under the tree where my 'behenjee' has an open-air tea shop and welcomes me and my car everyday for a cup @ Rs 4 only. She agreed to look after my jalopy till I return. Then I walked to the notorious highway and decided that I can't possibly get into the cheapest mode, the RTC Bus, which moves like a bowl of sugar hidden by choking ants. The next option is the 'share auto' (4 in all). But its top is low and sight-seeing is disallowed. So, I stop a moving 7-seater and get into it and note that I was the only passenger for a good while and was wondering how the chap can run all those kilometers on Rs 20. But soon I found that the youthful Driver has an unfailing technique to entice customers. And I discovered that these come in 3 shapes:

1. Old hags like me who jump in happily

2. Undecided (mostly two or more veiled ladies standing at the kerb waiting for a 'share auto' but take the chance with inviting pleas from the Driver)

3. Unwilling (two or more young girls on way to their workplace...they refuse to budge...but our Driver stands his vehicle with its doors close enough to them for a sufficiently long second that he breaks their resolve)

By half an hour and more of this fun, I reach my Ameerpet Office only to find that its gates are closed with a placard hanging announcing that they have recently moved to Sree Nagar Colony. Another 'unshare' auto (sharing is prohibited inside the core city). And I reach my destiny and switch on my smile at the new ma'am saying that we moved recently to our 'own' home but didn't have time to get the RC changed yet. She responds by pushing a white paper asking me to write my new address. So cool! And within a few minutes the cashier calls my name and collects Rs 942 only and asks me to wait for the new policy that will be shortly handed over to me...what a surprise!

And the ma'am duly places it in my hands and I see my new address incorporated gloriously. And thank her profusely; only to be told that the Insurance Company never had anything to do with the address in the RC...it is just the 'Correspondence Address' they are bothered about...

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Tailpiece

At 9 PM our doorbell rings and I being the default bellboy (others are always busy), I open the door and see a young lady waiting outside. I smile at her as if asking, "What can I do for you, lady?" only to be asked for my D-i-L. I leave the two alone and retire to my bedroom. And in a minute, my D-i-L comes in and says that the lady and family are leaving urgently for their home town in two hours and she wants the cell phone number of our default milkman, Raju, to ask him not to leave milk packets outside their door till further notice. And my D-i-L asks me for his phone number (I am the default phone book too). And I browse the address book in my phone for 'Raju' and pass on his phone number.

After ten minutes my D-i-L returns with a peeved look on her face and tells me that the young lady is back saying I gave her a 'wrong number'. I browse my address book again, this time for 'Milkman Raju' and pass it on, and all is well.

But I start wondering who that other Raju could be.

And recall after ten minutes that he is the Reporting Manager in my son's earlier IT Company...so sorry man!


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