Let me tell you something. We marwari's have a reputation of being miser. I brace the truth with humility that we are calculative and quick to find out opportunity cost in any situation (actually I often point out that most of us are rather spendthrift). That won't be a miser exactly. However, one alone can't change what the world believes.
There are many who are inspired by habits of our linage. Only if they could calculate the opportunity cost as fast as we could (I hope I am not hurting anyone's emotions) the life would be a lot easier.
So, she had a reputation of being calculative. Only if someone knew her as closely as I do, they would understand how often she crossed the thin line between calculation and misery.
We were travelling to Varanasi for a project. For both of us, it was our first trip alone.
We spent our day with various weavers of the town based on the addresses that were provided to us. We went to small lanes of the city looking for intricate designs and new blends.
Our last stop of the day was at an export house located 20km in the outskirts of the city. On our way to the factory we heard the news of riots breaking up in nearby towns. The driver informed us that it was a curfew was suspected. However, we who had no option but to finish our work during the day before we boarded our train.
As we reached the factory, the driver offered to wait while we finished. Before I could speak, my friend replied, “bhaiya bohot taxi milti hai yahan, aapko waiting ka charge nahi denge hum.” I wanted to give her a reminder that this was an absolutely new city but she was not ready to listen.
We finished our work and came back to see the taxi still being there. When asked, he said that he would charge us Rs. 250 to drop us to station. My friend, who had checked with the factory owners pointed to a few taxis at a nearby stand and said that she could get a cab for Rs. 150.
The quarrel between the driver and my friend went on for a while, with me on a side, trying my level best to calm either of them down.
Five minutes later, the cab guy smiled, wished us Good Luck and asked us to disappear. Suddenly my friend’s good sense prevailed and she offered him Rs. 200. But alas! He was quite furious by then and left.
In next one hour, in a near curfew state, we struggled to find a taxi without any success. No taxi at the stand had driver at the moment.
We crossed the block to look for taxi and were stopped by the police. Red alert was declared. We were asked to report our details and police officers threatened to take us in custody.
My patience was over. I was shouting, crying, getting irritated, tired at the same time. The officer in no condition was ready to let us go in search of a taxi.
After some teary pleadings (along which went a five hundred note) the officer decided to help us. He found us a taxi which agreed to take us to the station for Rs. 250.
We reached station just in time to make it for our train.
A journey that could cost us Rs. 250 cost us Rs. 750 along with trouble and scare that lasted hours.
Like they say - "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush!"
This post is written for the Project 365 program at We Post Daily aimed at posting at least once a day, based on the prompts provided. I am the guest author for the month of February. The prompt for today is Cliche - Clichés become clichés for a reason. Tell us about the last time a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush for you.
Have you found Shades of Life on Facebook yet? Please check it out here.
Please take out time to read more about the featured blogger for the month of February "Kathy Combs" here.
Also, check out the post by a non-blogger who penned down her feeling.
Guests are always welcomed at Shades of Life. Drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org and I would love to share your thoughts here.