The Autorickshawman that cried 'God!"

I am only human.

First, he spoke to me in what seemed to be ACJ-acceptable English. He said that sixty rupees was 'reasonable' in a tone that convinced me, I figure, and was more difficult to refuse by its implication of reasonability rather than some sort of arbit(rary) demand.

I got in.

Random thoughts. On singledom. Or the lack of it. Duality in singledom. Solitude in relationships. Loneliness in a relationship. Bhel Puri. Umrao Jaan. Wanted touch. Unwanted looks. Pilgrimages. Names. His names. Change as obstinate as the lack of it. Irreversible changes. Proselytization. Coimbatore.

Few observations. Dhaaba spelt as Dhabba.Giggle. Old man in extremely white cap and lady in pink burqa holding hands and crossing road. Unseen faces of children in an auto; little girl in blue uniform making herself comfortable on a little boy's lap, his hand protectively closing around her waist.

A phone call. Electronic concern. Better than mechanical, perhaps.

Another. An infectious laugh.

Signals. Big, small. Red, green. Long. Crowded. Smoky.

The flapping kurta stops.Rummage for a sixty.

He says something starting with 'Madam', involving the words ' I asked for too much', and ending with "Please give me forty-five".

I blink. Squint. I do not like this one bit, though I am surprised and happy on one hand. I shove a fifty in his hand and get out.

Wait.

What now?

A pamphlet. Please give to your friends. Can you read Tamil?

I need to get to work soon. I nod. He doesn't need to know about my abysmal word per minute count while reading Tamil.

Vrooms off.

I am left with a picture of a conductor telling a boy coloured in pink, how we all 'must get a ticket' (front cover). To where? Heaven, apparently, as I found after more squinting. (Not by me, but by a colleague who was handed the task after my infinitely limited reading skills failed me.)

And who gets us the ticket? Kartar. Translation : Jesus Christ.

Great timing. There must be a convention of proselytic-minded people converging on my life.

Wonder why my family astrologer didn't send out a red alert involving abshishekams to every deity in town.

Or wearing topaz rings.