Of Blushes and Accidents!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Wham! A deafening sound of crunched metal. Followed by a whoosh. Even before I can react, my head is bumped against the front seat. The car jolts to a stop. A black veil descends and I lose my consciousness.

            Probably only a few seconds. Cannot be more than that. Because when I open my eyes, I am still on my seat. The cab driver struggles with the air bag. A SUV stands in front of the cab with a dimpled rear. My head hurts and makes me dizzy. It all vaguely comes back to me. It was all because of me. I can’t help but blame myself. If only I’d behaved like a sensible human being. But I should probably start at the beginning.


            I’d had a very bad day. The non-consequential work related stuff but enough to make me irritable by the time it was over. I decided to go ahead with my long due grocery shopping with the hope of getting at least some things done. I called the local taxi service and booked my ride.

            The taxi driver who came to pick me up was a young guy with a very handsome face. He smiled and greeted me with a cheerful, “Hello sunshine”, when I reached for the door.

            I was too distracted to properly respond. So I merely grunted something. He scowled a little at me but kept silent otherwise. A little while later he started talking again. He told me that he was a student of history at the University of Chicago and had read a lot about India and was very fond of Indians. Though pleasantly surprised I was still very far from feeling any better about it. Yet again, I grunted in affirmative and went back to looking outside the window. He continued his small talk while I vaguely wondered why he was flirting with me. I definitely didn’t look like a wealthy customer to tip him generously.

            But he caught me completely off guard by what he said next, “You are very pretty.”

            I was taken aback. After all, it wasn’t every day that I received compliments from handsome white men! Why, these days I rarely got any real compliment from even my husband. Only except maybe when I was really dressed up, he hardly noticed how I looked anymore. So in spite of everything I felt good! And I blushed!

            “Oh, you just blushed. Didn’t you?” exclaimed he, his eyes fixed on the rear view mirror.

            I smiled embarrassedly. It was very awkward.

            He whirled back from his seat and said, “You really are very pretty. Will you go on a lunch date with me? I have an hour’s break in class. I work nights so cant invite you for dinner. Please don’t say your daddy won’t allow.”

            It was the second shock in two minutes. Till now, I had known such drama to be possible only in movies. It was a little unnerving to experience it in real life. Words failed me as I looked at him. But then it struck me. Such a nice guy he was. Sensing that my day hadn’t been so good he was just trying to cheer me up. I was so touched by his kind behaviour.

            I smiled and thanked him and said that I was sufficiently cheered up now. But he insisted that he was serious about the lunch date and wasn’t merely trying to cheer me up. Feeling a little perplexed I told him, in that case I was sorry but I was married.

            He took both of his hands off the steering wheel in mock frustration and at that precise moment a silver SUV came in front of us. I screamed to draw his notice but before he could do anything, we had hit the car.


            “Can I drop you off here?” the cab driver asks.

            “What?” I ask, still feeling a little dizzy.

         “Your store’s round the corner. You could walk. It will take me some time to get done with the police reports and other formalities.”

            I feel really bad for him. “Of course I can walk but are you sure you can handle?”

            “Absolutely. Don’t worry. You carry on.” He assures.

            I start walking. He calls back and says, “Don’t forget the lunch date. Your husband won’t mind, I am sure. After all, you broke my car.”

And I blush again, in spite of everything and the dizziness.

Moral of the story: Never encourage/engage your driver in nonsense talks. You may not be lucky like me to survive without a scratch. And if you still do, be ready to pay the price. Again, you may not be lucky like me to get away with a lunch date with a handsome guy.


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Riot of Random


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