It’s been more than two years now that I’ve been living in the national capital by myself. Coming from a remote part of the country, Delhi has been very welcoming. I have lived in seven states of India so far, but Delhi almost feels like home.

Being married to someone from the forces has forced me to be independent, self sufficient and above all find peace in my own company. I can not move around with him to all the locations he gets posted to, so for the past two years I’ve coped up well with myself in a pretty green area of the Mughal capital amidst the pollution and population.

In these two years I have taken an Uber almost everyday (sometimes, even Sundays) owing to my work and also the two best friends who live in the capital region. I always believed that I have been the kind of person who preferred silence over chatter. However, these daily Uber rides that I have taken in these two years brought out a side in me that I never knew. And pleasantly, it started quite early actually. The ride on the second day to work proved to be a very different one. I was running late and the driver took a wrong turn. He smiled nervously and looked at me as the arrow of the google map started hovering aimlessly. I smiled back, he heaved a sigh of relief and ever since I seemed to have woven a connection with most of the Uber drivers who have taken me around the city, almost every day since February 2018. I would often start with a ‘namaste Sir’, (well, there were a couple of Ma’ams as well) and they would smile back and the conversation would begin. I started taking short notes of the conversations on my phone hoping to pen down and compile it into a boom someday.

The lazy person that I am, I never picked up the laptop or a pen to write. Well, these Covid-19 isolation days have given me quite sometime to sit and introspect. I don’t know about the book but I can definitely start telling their stories to you in the form of this blog.

I sincerely hope that you enjoy my rides as much as I have.

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