I’ve traveled through truck cabin to save myself standing stranded on the road in the rainy night, in the scorching sun, terribly tired, to save myself from dieing of hunger & thirst. Yes sometimes I’ve traveled in truck cabin to save money as well.
From outside you just can’t notice the world inside the small hot cabin, neither just peeping inside can. Cabin is the kingdom of the truck driver his is the last word there. In the centre of the cabin there is huge truck engine covered by the big iron plate shaped into peculiar cone held with rubbery holdings. It depends if the truck is old the rubbery holdings may be replaced with wire, thin rope. The cover must keep on banging on the floor metal sheet while the truck is on the move. You can not keep any item on this cover neither your feet. This covered is one the most sacred items inside the cabin. The deck is made up of local carved wood with so many holes to it. They are used to stuff the scented stick which bellows the scented smoke to the upper dangling photo of some deity. Inside deck there must be hollow to fit cassette player tied with thin nylon rope or stuffed into the thermocol packing to keep it safe from the vibration. So far the truck engine is on, the cassette player must be on I dare not say it reproduces songs sung by Mohammad Rafi, Lata, Asha, Kishor etc. etc. since no voice matches with these singers I can ignore to notice the bombarding sound can be called as male voice or female voice even. There is secret hollow as well besides this; this socket is mainly dedicated for cigarettes of lesser known brands, bidis, match box, nip of desi tharra etc.
Given a lift you are made to sit on the long bench behind the drivers’ seat. In the middle of the seat there is way made for the gear shaft to reach to the gear box down. Care must be taken to have due regard for this ever vibrating gear shaft, you can not touch it while sitting there keeping it between your thighs as you never know when the driver will pull it up of push it down. You can not even sit erect since there is parallel berth running just above your head kissing your scalp with each pothole on the road you are loosening the berths’ nuts & bolts with banging your head. On the berth there is valuable property of the driver & cleaner (‘kinner’ as he’s called) which includes dal, chaval, vegetables, kerosene stove, dangled half dried underwear, loongi etc. etc.
Anything & everything inside this world is dirty, dusty & hot which you’ll notice if & only if your nose stops working or you’ve not got fainted. Everything inside stinks, few lesser few more yet the sole effect of foul smell are truly terrible. You dare not put hanky on your nose to express your displeasure, else you may be politely (of course drivers’) asked to get off from the truck reeling the ghat at snails’ speed with great trouble.
The driver, wiry hairs on his head, beard, chest etc., his baniyan & loongi of unknown original colour & black dusty present colour, wearing a thick kada or tied some thread in his right hand, & the whole body stinks. His lieutenant the cleaner deserves the equal description yet he must be dwarf than the driver, thin & small haired. He must be ready to obey any & every order issued to him by his master the driver. Be it shifting flat tyre, oiling the ailing engine, washing dirty wind screen or whole truck, tying & untying the ropes onto the material covered on the truck, preparation of the food, getting tharra from local bhatti or gutta etc. etc. And yes he too sometimes gets fortunate to sit at the wheel to turn the truck, reverse it & forward it so that it can be convenient for loading. It is their world where in driver is the king & his assistant general or general assistant is his kinnar oops, cleaner.
Once I’d been to Kerla on industrial assignment. On loading the truck driver had came to security cabin to get the last ritual done of getting papers noted there. The destination on invoice was read some ‘Railmajra’. I innocently asked the king of truck where is the place located? ‘I don’t know sir, it must be in Punjab or in Hariyana I’ll find it out, no problem (koi gal nai)’ he moved on with papers in his hands. I kept looking his tall six & half feet figure walking strongly towards his kingdom the truck in satisfaction that at last he’s leaving. Who knows how much distance he has cover in the truck with maximum speed of forty km/hr., how many potholes will give him jerks, how many times the age old truck will harass him, how much road dirt & dust will find its place on him, how many cities he’ll cross over, how many policemen he’ll encounter, how & what he’ll eat and so on.
He’s his family of wife, children, parents, brothers & sisters. For them he’s crossing long distance for peanuts. The stinking man in dirt & dust somehow or someway helping me too. While getting out that world putting my foot carefully on the huge four feet height tyre he’s holding my hand helping me. It still humbles me when I try to pay more he’d refuse politely saying, ‘itnahi kafi hai paaji (this much is enough sir)’ he only knows how much is enough.
By
Vijay Yelmelwar
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