One of my dearest chums D (not popular blogger D, another D I know in person and has been mentioned here before) has started blogging recently and sweetly wrote me a guest post (seeing as how of late I find it hard to come up with two lines worthy of being written down). Off you go to read that:

Thanks DewD for the honour of writing a guest post for you! [Aw man, too much credit you give me! The pleasure's all mine babe, thank YOU! :)]

So here it rolls -

A couple of months ago, I was in Mumbai. One evening I went to catch up with some old friends, had dinner and returned home in a rickshaw.

So it was 10.30pm, and as we approached my street, the driver, in his late 30s, pointed at my building.

Driver: Is that where you need to get off?
Me: Yes
Driver: See! I knew it! How do you think I know?

Me: Have you been here before? (Mr. Desperadooooooooo)
Driver: No. (Waits for me to guess again)
I have no interest in playing games at this point, so
Me: Then?
Driver: I can tell everything about the passenger just by looking at them. It comes with experience in our profession. All the 'hi-fi' people who come to this locality live in that building. That's how I know you live there.

Bloody show off! Although at this point I was tempted to lead him into making a fool of himself.
Me:Oh wow, you've got good skills
Driver:
(enthusiastic now) Let me explain. For example, do you know 'Brahmand society'? I can look at a passenger and know that's where they want to go. Because people living in that society are all dark and fat. You know, the typical SOUTH INDIAN types.

WTF???!!!!

Being a south-Indian myself, I am offended at this point although I don't fit into his description. I could have given him a lecture, got into an arguement, spoken about being an Indian first and make him bite his words. Well, I choose not to. I decide to play along and teach him a lesson, in a way that he might hopefully understand.

Me: (with a very serious voice) Do you mean to say all south-Indians are dark and fat?
There is a 5-second awkward silence.
Driver:(with a scared, shaky voice) Madam, are you a south Indian?
By this time, I have got down, and searching for my wallet in my handbag
Me:(with a sarcastic chuckle) Well, it looks like you don't know everything about your passengers after all...
Driver: Sorry madam. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Please. Sorry. Actually I had not looked at you well enough, otherwise I would not have said that
Me:
(but you still would have opined that throughout your life! Anyway, since you apologised...) Its OK.
Driver: (hesitating)So are you a south Indian?
Me: (handing him the fare) No
The smile of relief on his face would have brought tears of joy to his loved ones!
Driver: Thank God!
Me: (before turning and walking away in a stern voice and a straight face) I was kidding. I am what you guys would call an 'Idli sambar'. I am neither dark nor fat. (I hope you learnt your lesson today.)

His facial muscles tightened, eyes wide in horror. As I enter the elevator with this expression as my compensation, I hear another 'Sorry Madam' yelled in the background.

He was not a bad person. Neither are many. What they have is an opinion. A racist opinion. Thrusted and imposed on them by society, friends, family. Every racial group or clan has a tag - cheaters, misers, bad-dressers, cunning, and so on. Proposals are rejected in arranged marriages openly because of the skin colour. All this is inflicted by none other than fellow country-men. And we mock other countries for being racist.

How do we change this?