One thing I will surely miss when I leave Calcutta is the ubiquitous yellow taxis. There's nothing great about them. Normal Hindustan Motors Ambassador models painted yellow with a black stripe running along the sides, with electronic meters and more often than not a Bihari driver.
But then, its the whole experience.
Standing at the bus stop, still undecided whether to wait for the bus or opt for the more lucrative taxi waiting at the corner. Pacing up and down the bus stop, letting a few empty taxis with drivers craning their neck in search of passengers , pass by and then finally deciding to call out for the next empty taxi that comes by.
Sometimes that "next taxi" never comes ( the bus arrives earlier ), and sometimes the taxi does come but the driver isn't ready to go. And sometimes when you have not even decided about your journey ( the choice of bus vs taxi hasn't cropped up yet ), pop comes an empty taxi, you raise your hand, the taxi stops, you alight the taxi and thats it.
Funny. The way things happen.
To think of it, the whole process of hailing a taxi, opening the door, and giving out instructions to the driver to take us to a certain place has some different feel to it. Perhaps a combination of power, expectation, and hope.
