Rickshaw drivers come in various types. I’ve been a bit intimidated by the Chennai auto-rickshaw drivers, at your face and aggressive. Those in Bangalore are more sober; the ones in Mumbai are mostly professional (put meter, take money, give exact change types); and Delhi throws up all sorts. A few Lahore drivers, though, never cease to amaze.

Using the meters isn’t the done thing; so there is often a haggling process that ensues. Once you approach a driver, and tell him where you need to go, he may either quote a price, which solves all problems as you have a starting point from where you can bargain, or simply leave the whole choice to you.

It’s the second type of drivers that need attention. Once the journey is completed, he will give you a genial smile, as if waiting for you to decide the amount. If you ask him, he will invariably say ‘Aap ki marzi’ (your choice). Now that’s tricky. You’re new to the city, you’ve traveled quite a distance, you have made him stop at a few places, and you have not a clue about where to start off. So you joke and say ‘Theek hain, dus rupaiaya dhoonga’ (OK, I will give you ten rupees) and with a more exaggerated smile, which is even more genial, he says ‘Aap ki marzi’.

It’s a bit unnerving. It’s as if he is supremely confident that you will not be shameless enough to give him ten rupees and walk off. So you go through the whole conversation again and try and explain to him that it is his duty to quote a price. Now, after gauging your mood for a few minutes he will throw up a figure that appears absurdly high and leave you in a situation where even a fair bargain will result in a loss.

And if at all you get a bit aggressive and reason in terms of distance-time equations, he always has one excuse to hide behind – this is exactly the reason why I told you to give what you want; exactly why I said ‘Aap ki marzi’.