Delhiwale: Driving along till the end of time

Hari Om and his auto rickshaw journeys

His white hair is standing spindly on his head, ably covering the bald patch at the centre. When the auto rickshaw stops at the Purana Qila traffic signal, he turns off the engine and bends down his head towards the left side, as though in deep thoughts. Perhaps he imagines the wait may be long at this signal.

Hari Om has been driving his auto rickshaw in Delhi since 1974.

It is 3 in the afternoon on a sultry day. The glare of the daylight hurts the eyes. He has been out of the house since 8 in the morning.

Finally, the light turns green. He restarts the engine, his arms are firmly clutching the handles. The auto slowly picks up speed, racing along the road, but not rash, keeping a safe distance from the vehicle ahead.

Hari Om has been driving his auto rickshaw in Delhi since 1974. He is in his 70s. A person of his age usually gives up work and stays at home, watching television, reading newspapers, and WhatsApp-ing with friends and relatives.

On being asked what keeps him on the road in his advanced years, the elderly driver responds in a single line: “Bachhe nahi hain (no children).”

He makes a clarification on further queries. “I have a daughter, but she lives with her family… She has two children.” Hari Om lives with wife, Mamta, “jumnapaar” in Geeta Colony.

Another traffic light. This could be even longer than the last one. It is after the ITO crossing.

Hari Om again turns off the engine with a decisive gesture. A coconut vendor approaches him, his tray is neatly stacked with white wedges of the fruit. Hari Om isn’t tempted. He had lunch an hour back — his wife had packed rotis.

“It is so hot, so there is no point in carrying subzi from home… It can’t bear the heat.” He picks up a dish from any random roadside eatery.

“I have two rotis in the day, two rotis at night,” he intones in a singsong tone as though reading a poem. “My daughter is an achhi bachhi (good child). Her husband too is a driver… He drives a cab.” During the worst periods of the Covid-19 pandemic, aware of his age-related vulnerabilities, he did not drive the auto. “We just lived off our savings.”

The traffic light turns green.

While dropping his customer near Raj Ghat, the venerable driver finally smiles and says, “I will retire only after retiring from life.”

He now awaits a new customer. As always, he will return home at 5 in the evening.