Snooty Bhai 

The taxi driver is the most snooty of Mumbaikars; and that includes the lady in the Chanel suit dripping diamonds. If you flag down a taxi you better have good enough reason else you will be subjected to disdain so deep you’ll cringe at the memory for months after. This is believed by old-timers to be the arrogance allowed the owner of a Premier Padmini.

In the sixties, in an attempt to break the monopoly of Hindustan Motors, Premier automobiles launched the Premier Padmini. It became the preferred vehicle of an upwardly mobile and affluent class who wanted the sleekness of an imported car without having to pay through their noses for it. Apparently there was a waiting period of two years between the booking and actual ownership of a Padmini. With the arrival of the Maruti 800 the sales of the Padmini nosedived and continued to decline till its manufacture was stopped in 2000. Today the taxi segment owns practically all the 55,000 Padminis in Mumbai and they take justifiable pride in this achievement.

Mind over meter 

One surefire way to befriend this aloof class is to learn the art of turning the meter down. This fairly simple act, carried out at the appropriate moment with the right touch of excitement reminds the driver perhaps of the money that he is soon to come into and your contribution to the cause. This causes a momentary thaw that allows you to slip in a couple of questions.

How much does a second hand Padmini cost? Rs 10,000.

How much does it cost you to soup up the interiors? Anything between five and twenty five thousand depending on the scale and theme of the decor.

Some of the most tastefully decorated cabs boast leopard skin upholstery, mirrored roofs with fur lining and a giant metal rods that are a pole dancer’s delight placed strategically between the bucket seats in front. Other preferred upholstery stand out in bright neons and metallics featuring psychedelia and floral motifs gone hyperbole. Throw in some religious iconography and you have a space that becomes the epitome of kitschy cool. In a city where getting to work often means a two hour drive it’s nice to have some detailing to zone out into.

The Symbolism 

Besides being the souped up version of the car that shaped the aspirations of a generation most taxis in Mumbai are also the carriers of other, more mysterious labels. Inspect the C Column and you will find embedded in it taxi buttons carrying the Brand name of French fashion designer Pierre Balmain. The plot thickens when one realizes that not all taxis are thus branded. One in every five or maybe even six are. So one concludes that it is some kind of hierarchy indicator.

One other recurring motif is the palm sized mini poster of a veiled woman under a tree asking plaintively of the man behind the wheel, “Ghar Kab Aaoge?” The presence of this lady apparently lends the cabbie a certain degree of respectability. According to some no rapist would pick up victims with a constant reminder of the woman at home staring him in the face.

I have realized that it is also the Cinderella syndrome with taxis in Mumbai. Busy bumblebees that swarm the streets by day, they turn into mysterious little twilight zones by night. The insides are lit up by some sort of coloured UV light and music blares out tinny and assertive producing the illusion of a compact, mobile discotheque.

By the way, anyone who thinks Himesh Reshammiya sucks should listen to him in the cozy confines of a Taxi. When nasal meets tinny, magic is born.

A friend once told me of the secret colour code of taxis in the city. How each colour signified a different type of dubious dealing the driver engaged in by night. Blue for pimping, green for peddling etc. These more lucrative career options also explain why even a trip to Navi Mumbai from South Mumbai (costing the unfortunate passenger half his salary) elicits nothing but a curt no and stare into space.

Mumbai, the venerable old tin-of-sardines, has never been accused of affording its lovers space or privacy. The happy visual of young couples in the backseat of a taxi, leaning towards each other, their silhouettes thrown into sharp focus by the headlights of an oncoming car, could well replace the classic sunset shot for the modern Mumbaikar.

Double parker, flouter of traffic rules and peril to unsuspecting pedestrians. Here’s to the taxi, our picaresque hero.

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