In Pursuit of a Nalla Autokaran

Three wheels is all it got. Yet it is etched in our psyche for eternity. It is the perfect companion when we are lazy to walk, a capsule with the sound of rocket that ping-pong through traffic effortlessly, a commonplace of squabble where we pay for space and time. Let me present to you *drum roll* the gloriously infamous Indian auto rickshaw.

For many foreigners, rickshaw has become as indigenous to India as Gandhi. One of my friends even felt a bit let down when I told her that Indian's didn't invent this one. Can't blame her - rickshaw's are cheap, versatile and and highly individualistic - much like anything from India. Indian cinema industries gets this and through time and again, does its part to boost the ego of rickshaw walla, by making them the dashing hero.

Rajnikanth, as the epitome of nalla autokaran 

When I was eight, every autokaran ( auto-rickshaw-walla / driver) was in my mind a Rajnikanth. Much had to do with the movie Bassha, which I watched with gaps of loud laughs; never a dull moment in this. The song of "Naan Autokaran" ( here is a funnily sad, direct translation) where he shakes a leg or two to advice what a good autokaran must be doing. It is relevant, for the traveller at least. And hypothetical. Sigh.

Having stayed a good chunk of time in seven cities in India, covering considerable lengths and disgusting experiences with flashers while tuk-tuking, I call myself as a pursuant, always in search of an idealistic nalla autokaran.  Points I look out for generally, can help you too I thought, so here goes.

Meter Matters
In most cities ( except in Bombay and Trivandrum), the meter is an artifact. Try pointing at it and it becomes a cue for the driver's extempore on current currency inflation, idiotic one-ways and dividers that are longer than the Great Wall of China itself.  Most rickshaw's I've seen has got a statutory warning branded on it, "Don't touch me". Get it right - it is a touchy topic. Many would grumble if you state you'll only go by the meter charge.

By all means, do do that! If they say it doesn't work or starts explaining some bull story, move on. There are plenty of fishes in the Indian road.

The Reader
Indian autokars are usually found to be well-read. It is no surprise if you see some reading the news paper while parked at the auto stand. I usually gravitate towards them than those who simply gawk away time. Chats flow easily between the traveller and the autokaran about something or anything. The world of words seems to give them a better perspective on respect, on being well mannered, fluent in more languages and to be fair about charging.

Long-Nail Fetish
My mom once told me that you can know a lot of a guy from his nail. I use a quick clean-nail-scale for auto wallas too. Some tend to have long nails that could give serious competition to Wolverine. Purpose of it is a mystery (to scratch disagreeable areas?). Steer clear of those. Call me biased, but dirty nails shout loud of an unkept character.

Pimped Up
If an auto looks like an ultimate circus of colors, with posters of sultry film stars and scantily clad, then you have met the lonely autokaran. They spent a lot of time in the comforts of their palace on wheels. They try to catch your attention from the rear view mirror, only to be shunned to keep their eyes on the road. Not saying that you shouldn't be cautious, some of them can be really troubling for female passengers.  But some times though all you need to do is talk and their happiness is evident.