bottle between his legs and soon the engine sprang to life and they were on their way again, back to the main road and in quick time the airport arrows were popping up in the right place. Within ten minutes they were close to the airport.
So you are flying to Varanasi Mr. Eliot. You must be careful in Uttar Pradesh it’s not civilisation like here in Kolkata. Let me tell you the Hindus and Muslims do not like each other. I’m Hindu but I’m not getting angry and killing someone because they have eaten a cow. Yes the Muslims are being crazy, putting bombs on their bodies and they don’t like pork but that’s just how they are being.
Thank you for the advice Pintu. I will try to avoid this kind of conflict.
And I am telling you one more advice Mr.Eliot. In Uttar Pradesh you must keep your little man in your trousers or your friend will be getting in big trouble and maybe she will die.
Thank you again, but I’m getting a bit old for that kind of thing, so no problem there.
You will be doing what there Mr. Eliot?
I have a job as a teacher trainer in a small school in a village called Madho Patti.
I have never heard of this one.
No it’s very small, maybe a hundred people. There is a larger town nearby called Kajgaon and it’s about ten kilometres from Jaunpur.
Yes I am knowing Jaunpur. So you will be teaching which things? English?
Yes I will be working with two young women graduates who have studied English at Jaunpur University.
Ahh Mr. Eliot, remember my advice about your little man. Ha ha!
Very humourous Pintu.
They were now driving up the ramp to the drop off point and the taxi pushed through the congestion and soon they pulled up outside the domestic departure gates.
There you are Mr Eliot, we are getting you here in plenty of time and no need for rushing around for you now. We tell you this.
Yes, you have done very well Ravi. Thank you very much, I have been lucky to find you at the airport last night. You are number one taxi drivers.
Pintu and Ravi hauled Eliot’s large backpack and his red rolling case onto the sidewalk and then stood facing Eliot with their yellow teeth on display.
So, how much will that be then?
We are estimating the fare is 2000 rupee for our many services Eliot. We very reliable and protect you from no good taxi drivers and we come on time and you here early and because you are our Australian friend we buy you a big Kingfisher!
Eliot thought about the word estimate, and the word service and it was more than he had estimated but things were different now.
That sounds very reasonable to me.
Eliot counted out the rupees into Pintu’s hand and gave him an extra one hundred.
But you must promise me something you two. Don’t spend it all on beer and whiskey. Make sure that you buy your wife and children a present too. Thanks again for keeping me safe in Kolkata. I hope that we can meet again sometime. I will miss you two.
He wondered if age and the Kingfisher was making him sentimental. How had he got to feel this way about two Kolkata taxi drivers? But he had.
We hope so too. We are saving up our money and one day maybe we will come and stay with you and be lying on the beaches and be looking at your women in bikinis and drink Australian beer.
The word Australian triggered the thought of the bag of fluffy kangaroo key rings somewhere in his red rolling case that he had brought with him as little gifts for people in Madho Patti. What the heck he thought.
Pintu and Ravi, just a moment, I need to get something out of my case that I want to give you both. Tell me, how many children do you have?
I have three and Ravi has four Mr. Eliot. Our wives have been very good to us.
First, the keys to his case had to be found in his money belt. He dug past his passport and his flight booking and his Malaysian Ringgit and Australian dollars and there they were. He lay the red rolling, case on its side on the footpath, unlocked the padlock and unzipped it and after a quick rummage he drew out the cellophane bag full of fluffy kangaroo key rings and zipped it open.
Now let’s see, one, two, three..........seven. There we have it .One for each.
The faces of Pintu and Ravi said it all.
Our children are very lucky. Thank you very much. We hope one day that you will return to Kolkata and our children can be lucky to meet you. Well we must be going now Mr Eliot, we must be making more rupees to take home to our wives.
They both gave giant smiles from their larger and smaller head and both of them shook Eliot’s hand in their two hands and in a moment they were in their taxi and they drove away without looking back and he felt a strange feeling of being alone because the only people that he really knew in the whole of India, well except Jalal, had disappeared probably for ever. Well that’s the way it is, he was lucky. There were, he guessed, thousands of taxi drivers in Kolkata and he had come in the middle of the night and he had come across Pintu and Ravi.
15.
He had only been in Kolkata for just over twelve hours. How could that be? It seemed so long since he had arrived in the middle of the night and luckily found Pintu and Ravi and their dented and scratched taxi and they had driven around in a seemingly aimless fashion that had at the time seriously disconcerted him. And the police, the drunken police with their laathi sticks did happen. Finally the hotel in Salt Lake City was found and he was safe in his nice secure room.
And if he had walked out of the airport doors into the darkness fifteen minutes later, what would have happened? Maybe he wouldn’t have met Pintu and Ravi who were only happy when he was happy and he wouldn’t have drunk a Kingfisher longneck at eleven o’clock in the morning and he wouldn’t have given away half of his fluffy kangaroo key rings. So as Special would say, everything was down to luck and so far his luck had been good. Except for his toe. For some reason it had started to throb and it was attracting the flies.
In the departure lounge he had an idea to fill in some time so he put away Pickwick Papers and took out his new diary, inside the cover, good luck Eliot, Eleanor x. Maybe she was praying for him to be lucky right at this moment. He took his pen and thought about what to write for his first diary entry.
18/7/14
I arrived in Kolkata, maybe a bit below par and tired of course. and arriving at midnight didn’t help either because you find it hard to gain your equilibrium. The strangeness of the city and then the hotel that wasn’t near the airport at all, in fact it didn’t seem to be anywhere for a while and I was beginning to wonder if I could trust Pintu and Ravi. I needn’t have worried. Then there were the police, the drunken police in fact and their laathi sticks so that when I sat on the end of my bed at the Emperor residency I was not sure whether I had bitten off more than I could chew and home seemed like a good place to be. So I read Marion’s letter and then in the light of the day things seemed different and I remembered of course that travelling is not mostly about places, more about the people and I’ve been lucky already. I’ve met Carol and Ragini and Pintu and Ravi. People make the difference.
This is not a great first diary entry. I don’t feel like writing anymore but I will try to make a new start and continue to try and write every day. In just over three hours hours I should be in Varanasi shaking Jalal’s hand.
The tiny boarding area was starting to fill up now so Eliot sat and surveyed the other twenty or so passengers on this flight to Varanasi. They were all Indian. Mostly business types he guessed. Busy with laptops or I pads, some with their wives in their brilliant colours, and there was one very attractive young Indian woman in western dress who a man could not fail to notice. But the standout for being noticed was the floor sitting monk of some persuasion in his saffron coloured costume.
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