The inevitable happened, as often it does. My better half was out shopping and I was on my own, that meant no car for me. I had to get home and needed some cash too. So I hired a Rickshaw and headed home, via the bank off course. It was almost 7 pm when I reached the Bank. I told the driver to wait for me as I wanted to get some money and went on to do some jugglery with ATM machine. Praying hard that it does have enough cash, and that it isn’t out of order. It wasn’t out of order, and out came a thin wad of cash, crisp and smelling sweet. As I came out of the ATM kiosk I saw a shadow near me, thinking it to be a mugger I braced for an encounter and deftly moved away only to realize it was the Rickshaw driver who had followed me.
It was late evening. I wanted to go to Saddar. My car was at the workshop. I waived, the rickshaw stopped and I hopped in. When it stopped at the red light light from street lamp seeped in and it was then that I realized the rickshaw seats were covered with green leather. A closer inspection revealed the words PR. The very seat covers used by Pakistan Railways. Don’t know where he got them from but it looked decent. Anyways our railway is already dead, but who cares.