Archive for February, 2012

Mr. Kaur

December 2008 

His wooly jumper was bobbled round the edges. Striped and worn, with holes in the elbows. I love my taxi driver, Mr. Kaur. He’s so honest and kind. I love how he tells me everything as it happens.  ‘Airport passing on the right Maam. That’s the flyover for the Domestic airport’. ‘Big runway being built.’ ‘We’re at Ixzit five now Maam’ ‘78 kilometers on the clock now’. He provides live updates. Gently reminding me he is there.

As we drove towards Gurgaon, jagged sculptures appeared from the smoggy mist like silent giants. The developing satellite to Delhi is beginning to thrive and find its own identity. I could see his furrowed brow in the rear view mirror, sweating slightly in the winter sunlight.

‘What do you think of the recent terrorist attacks?’, I asked him.

This had been on my mind.

I woke up last night heart beating fast. I had heard a bomb going off — at least I thought I had. I haven’t been nervous about this stuff in the past, but last night I found out that a bomb had been disarmed across the road from my cousin’s house, in the heaving colony of Kotla, soon after the Mumbai attacks. This was that bit too close to home.



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