Bashir the Transporter

As I walked down from the metro stairs one sultry afternoon, the dozing rickshaw pullers tried to ignore me;

I looked down the line, to see if I could find a familiar rickshaw puller, so as to avoid being fleeced.

A rikshaw puller broke the queue, and said : চলেন বাবু ! I was startled, to hear his typical ওপার বাংলা accent. The first in queue objected, but he said that it’s his first right as he had dropped here from “Stellar”. This intrigued me further. He quoted the correct price as well.

Obviously he was lying, as my daughter had given me a lift to the metro station. Moreover, he did not look familiar to me.

He was wearing a checked lungi, a neatly pressed kurta, topped by a skull cap. Not like any of the rickshaw pullers around here.

His flashy watch caught my attention, it seemed to be out of sync, but ticking nonetheless. I wanted to know more about him, so I took his offer.

A few hundred meters away, I told him, that this is my first trip on his rickshaw. Without, looking back, he nodded. “I have seen you many times take Ola from the society gate.” As he was confidently speaking to me in Bengali; I suspected there was more to it than this.

A chill ran up my spine as he casually said that he knew me! How? He avoided the question. It was getting spookier by the moment.

He asked: Would if I like to buy another authentic Jamdani? Another? My mind was now racing faster than my pulse.

While at Oracle, I had an APAC (Asia & Pacific) wide role, and had to travel to most of the Asian countries. During my last visit to Dhaka, I had bought an expensive Jamdani, from BRAC. In a hurry, I had left it at my hotel, and Pan Pacific Sonargaon, had very kindly DHL back to me.

Thus, it could have been either of the two sources, as BRAC requires your passport copy. But how would a humble rickshaw puller this far away in Noida, know about it?

As I probed further, I came to know he was Bashir. He originally belongs to Tetera (Bangladesh) and Tenagan river flows nearby his home. He, including others of his family have AADHAAR cards, showing they belong to Chandangaon (India)!

He was in a “transport” business, till demonetization, did away with the fake notes transportation business. Now, he was into selling Jamdani and “other” items. His only son, youngest among his five children, was now earning well in a gulf country, but his wife suffering from a terminal illness & was admitted into a government hospital (in India). I had blogged about this earlier.

But even this heart wrenching sorrowful tale, could not pacify my nerves.

The question still remained unanswered, how did he know I had bought an expensive Jamdani, more than a year ago? All he would tell me was his “Murshid” told him so. He said if I was interested I could let him know and he will present me with a selection and can pay him Cash-on-Delivery at my society gate! Wow!

I told him, that I would buy only if he showed me his Aadhaar card, and I will transfer to his aadhaar linked account.

This drove him into silence and he paddled the rest of the way silently.

He stopped short of our boundary gate, near the Mother Dairy booth.

I wanted him to come into the range of our security cameras, but he was much smarter than me! I could pay him even half of the agreed sum, or not not at all; but he will not go any further.

I paid him off and walked down.

I keep wondering that if these aliens have such a strong network, what else are they capable of? I shudder to imagine.