Skip to main content

Cab Ride, I' ll Never Forget ...

This is one short story sent to me as an email forward by my friend Saraswathi, It was simply out of the world and hence thought of putting it on my blog. This piece of article is not my view or idea, this originally belongs to Kent Nerburn and hence publication of this information in this post should not attract any legal or patent related issues, as I confirm and swear that this is not my work, I am putting it here just for the sense of sharing the information to my readers. I thank my friend Saraswathi for forwarding this masterpiece...

"I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life…"


Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss.

What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry.

Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, and made me laugh and weep.

But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.

Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated."

"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice."

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers".

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Comments

  1. a real nice fwd...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous12:28 AM

    http://themetamorphosisbegins.wordpress.com/2007/08/25/gandhigiri/

    i ve had a similar sounding experience

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

கல்யாணமோ கல்யாணம் ...

"இந்த கட்டுரையில் வரும் சம்பவங்களும், வசனங்களும் வாசகர்களின் நிஜ வாழ்கையோடு ஒத்து இருந்தால், அது தற்செயலே. அதற்க்கு நானோ அல்லது என் வலை தளமோ பொறுப்பல்ல ... " என்ன டா பில்டப் பலமா இருக்கே நு பார்கறீங்களா ? இந்த கட்டுரைய படிங்க, அப்புறம் புரியும் ... நீங்களே சொல்லுவீங்க ... "Same Blood" நு ... நம்ப சமுதாயத்துல கல்யாணம்ங்கற விஷயம் மட்டும் ரொம்பவே காம்ப்ளிகேட் பண்ணிடான்களோ நு யோசிக்கறேன், அதுவும் குறிப்பா எங்கள மாதிரி "Brahmin - IYER" கம்யூனிடி ல அது ரொம்பவே வாஸ்தவமான ஒரு விஷயம். இந்த கட்டுரைய படிக்கற நீங்க இது என் வாழ்க்கைய பத்தின விஷயம் தான் நு நினைசீங்கன்னா அது தப்பு, இது பொதுவா எல்லாரோட வாழ்க்கையிலும் நடக்கற விஷயம் தான், அதையே கொஞ்சம் காமெடியா சொல்லணும் ஆசை படறேன், அவ்வளவுதான். வாங்க கல்யாணம் ஆகாத ஒரு பையனோட (ஐயர் பையனோட) வீடு எப்படி இருக்கும் நு காட்டறேன் ... தாத்தா, பாட்டி, அப்பா, அம்மா எல்லாரும் மும்முரமா ஏதோ ஒரு ஜாதகத்த பார்த்துகிட்டு இருக்காங்க ... ஏண்டி ... இந்த பொண்ணோட ஜாதகம் 2002 ல ஏ நமக்கு வந்துது ல ? இன்னுமா இந்த பொண்ணுக்கு கல்யாணம் ஆகல ? ஆமாம்

My Songs Collection ...

After a long struggle, i somehow managed to collect 800+ songs of SPB, which to me are the GOLDEN SONGS sung by that GOLDEN VOICE. Here is my complete songs collection. My target is to get 1000 songs of SPB (Tamil Songs). S.NO Name Artist Album 1 Unna Vellaavi Vechu Thaan GV Prakash Aadukalam 2 Ayyayo Nenju Alayudhadi SPB - S P Charan Aadukalam 3 Ottha Sollaala Velmurugan Aadukalam 4 Yetthi Vecha Nerupinile SPB - Chitra Aalapirandhavan 5 Ponnai Virumbum Boomiyile TMS Aalaya Mani 6 Oru Kili Urugudhu Janaki Aanandha Kummi 7 Oomai Nenjin Osaigal SPB - S Janaki Aanandha Kummi 8 Oru Raagam Paadalodu KJY - Chitra Aanandha Raagam 9 Mere Sappunoun Ki Rafiq Aaraadhana 10 Oru Kunguma Chengamalam SPB - S Janaki Aaraadhanai 11 En Kannukoru Nilavaa SPB - JANAKI Aaraaro Aariraro 12 Kanmaniyae Kaadhal Enbadhu SPB - S JANAKI Aaril Irrundhu Arubathu Varai 13 Meenammaa Adhi Kaalaiyilum Unni Krishnan - Shobana Aasai 14

2021 - A Recap

  I am just relieved to see off 2021, what a traumatic year this had been for our planet, the wave of Covid that hit many countries, especially India was just too much to handle, the lives lost due to this is shitty disease has left a bad taste in all our minds, no words are enough to console the near and dear one's who have lost their loved one. When we were all set to give a sigh of relief, there came this new variant called "Omicron" which has been more transmittive and more infectious than the previous variant of this virus, this has put brakes on my trip to India this December and that means I could not do sraardham for my mom for the second consecutive year. This year we made an unplanned sudden trip to India during September-October as V's dad was cricitally ill and was admitted in the hospital in a very critical state, we all thought that he is not going to make it out, but god had other plans, he came home and is now doing fine and safe. Now if I think back,