A Cabbie in NYC

After a long time, I visited a city that evoked the writer in me. New York City though very different from my hometown Kolkata is also very similar in many ways. Both cities are like a complex tapestry—a form of textile art that is composed of two sets of interlaced threads; where one set of threads are completely hidden in the finished work. Both cities crave intimacy—they never reveal their true nature to a stranger.

I’ve always been intrigued by whatever that is hidden beneath. As a boy I tore apart toy cars to see what’s inside. As a teenager I tried to understand the mechanics of the human mind and expressed it through poetry. As an adult I studied neuroscience and psychology to understand why people behave differently and also dabbled in occult literature for answers to life’s questions that are yet to be resolved by science.

The same uneasiness of not knowing the unknown made me chat up a few cabbies. The cabbies in New York City come from all over the world and from diverse cultures and backgrounds like many other New Yorkers who make it a truly international city.

The first cab we took was driven by an African man whose accent sounded familiar. The only African country I’ve been to is Ghana for my IBM corporate service corps assignment. My conversation starter was “Hello, Sir! Are you from Ghana by any chance?” And yes indeed he was from Ghana and he seemed visibly impressed by my ability to read his accent. After a bit of small talk and me talking about my assignment in Ghana it was my turn to be impressed. I came to know that he had been saving money as a cabbie for close to ten years for opening up a school back in Ghana. The construction for which has started and it’ll be fully operational by the end of this year. I congratulated him for his achievement and wished him all the luck that he can have. As I was lamenting on the sorry state of the schools in Ghana and the fact that the students have to walk miles to get to their schools he assured me that he’ll not only provide quality education but will also arrange for busses to pickup and drop students. He also invited me to his home if I ever visited Ghana again.

Though there are several other interesting stories about New York (and I’ll surely write about it in future) but I’ll end this story here itself since I want the story of the Ghanaian cabbie to remain with you and not get lost in the clutter of other “interesting” stories. The Ghanaian cabbie reassures us that we can be what we want to be and we can change the world the way we want it to be. He is just a “cabbie” in New York City but he has learnt to look up and tear up the sky, like the numerous skyscrapers he wades through with his cab, for a sprinkling of hope and happiness that he can shower on his country.