Like every morning for the past few months, Khraw booked one of those ever-popular bike taxis to work. This was his main mode of transport to work now. No more cab aggregators for him. It was 10.30 am and he wanted to reach his office by 11 am or, latest, by 11.15 am. He had done it many times. Going from Indiranagar to HSR Layout, a distance of around ten kilometres, is possible within half an hour even in peak hours, he would tell his friends. Many scoffed at him in disbelief. They did not know that the route he took went through the front doors of many houses. Bengaluru had become infamous all over the world for its traffic problems. Even The New York Times and the BBC had reported on the issue, but Khraw knew better, at least on this route.
Miles, kilometres and the usual units of calculating distances did not apply to this city. People here calculated distances in time, as though they were travelling in space. He would ask his bike driver to take the by lanes of S.T. Bed. No need to go to the main road and spend some half an hour or an hour just waiting at the traffic stops. These were things those international publications didn't know and never published. A large portion of the road from the Domlur flyover ran alongside the army-owned areas. Once one crossed the Ejipura stop, you entered the by lanes. The problem was only some 500 metres away from this congested stop. But even here, Khraw had figured out a trick to beat the traffic. One just needed to reach this place at around 11 am. The thinnest concentration of vehicles here, in the daytime, was around 11 am. Khraw had calculated the timings for months to reach this conclusion, and it worked every time.
The only hurdle was the bike driver. Khraw anticipated the Captain (as the drivers of the bike taxi were called on the mobile app) to arrive within the scheduled time – 2 minutes, 5 minutes, 10 minutes. Sometimes the drivers would go in the opposite direction and not towards him. He would call them several times and many of them would not turn around, despite assuring him that they would. Sometimes he would call them back just to give them an earful and cancel the trip. On this day, though, Khraw's Captain came on time. He didn't even have to call him. Such days were rare. In fact, Khraw was the one who made him wait for a while. Finally, he came down from his apartment and the Captain was there. The Captain flashed him a wide smile but didn't say a word. He then handed Khraw his helmet, waited for him to climb on at the back and the two were off.
The Captain had a square-jaw and one of those faces that appeared to be ever-smiling. He was lean and fit and looked young for his age, which must have been around forty-five years. After what seemed about ten minutes, the two got talking. Sometimes, when Khraw had a lot on his mind, he liked a driver who didn't talk much. Today, he was in a chatty mood. He asked the Captain if he was doing this part time or full time, which is where he always began when he wanted to start a conversation. He would judge the length of the answer and the driver's enthusiasm in giving it, in order to ask another question and then another one. The Captain seemed interested to give more details about his work schedule and very soon their talk veered to the beginnings of his entire working life.