Speechless!

"Miles passed without a word."

I stopped reading further at this point in John Grisham's The Confession (page 182, 10th line from bottom).

Reverend Keith Scheroeder is at the wheels and murderer Travis Boyette is seated next to him as they dash towards Dallas, Texas to save an innocent man from capital punishment.

Two passengers travelling with a deadline in sight. One a priest and the other: murderer.

I stopped proceeding further because I could not help correlating to my own experience a few weeks ago while trucking 2800 kilometre from Chennai to Gurgaon with Umesh Rana (driver) and Pinto Sau (assistant) for company over 8 days.

Considering the fact that we use to drive for close to 20 hours daily, spending time in the 8 x 5 ft cabin was a task. Added to this crisis are two more issues: one, my HIndi was no where close to their Jharkhand version. Secondly, lack of common topics to talk about.

There used to interminably long hours of silence en route.

Day one was not a challenge as I managed to wangle as much personal information out of them as possible.

Somehow, I was able to break ice with this twentyish driver-assistant duo as early as possible.

Conversational comfort began to emerge from Day two. Umesh was the spokesperson for the two, due to his seniority. Except broaching his sex life, I made Umesh spell out everything else.

Not that I did not want to discuss sex with him. But what stopped me was his initial remark on Day One (actually "first night" of our travel) that I reminded him of his father!

I was floored and felt ashamed to talk 'sex' with him.

Umesh was a quiet guy. He responded only when asked specific questions.

They never watched movies. So any talk about Bollywood was ruled out. They never smoked or drank. So no question of such interesting topics.

Most of our talks used to centre around the life of a truck driver.

I used to wonder how can he be driving non stop, silently for hours together.

Even between the two, the conversation could have been tough. Pinto was a rookie and an able assistant to Umesh. PUt it differently, Umesh was boss to Pinto.

Occasionally, they used to speak in a strange dialect which I later learnt to be "Jharkhandi".

Irrepsective of who was driving, I used to occupy the front seat watching the vast expanse in front. For a short while between 2 and 4, i quietly moved to lower berth for a short nap to avoid harsh November sun as we were passing through Karnataka and Maharashtra.

How much one can talk, anyhow! Silence was the only way out.

Am sure they also must have felt what to share with an old man like me.

Surprisingly, not a single day passes since I returned home without a call from Umesh.

Thank you, Umesh!

One day, Pinto casually remarked that people of my age in his hometown sit on the charpoy and smoke hookah. Don't hop onto a car carrier weighing 22 tones and travel 2800 km like a madcap.

That's me, Pinto.

Can't help it.

Just before entering Gurgaon final stop, Pinto asked: "Sirji, will you do this again?"

He was, am sure, disappointed with my "Yes" response.

Maybe a trip to Jammu in Feb/March is very on the cards.

Or a trip on car-carrying ship to China from Chennai.

Why not?

Sex @ Hubli

"Hello".

I heard someone calling me from nearby.

But could not locate. Because it was dark with hardly a 25 watts filament bulb near the tap bay where one washes one's hands after emptying bowels.

Again, "hello". The hushed voice was heard.

I stopped and looked around.

Now I was able to spot the voice owner. Now she was in 3 feet distance.

Must be in her early 20s.

Can see her plunging boobs.

Also protruding navel button.

Possibly at birth, the ayah or nurse while delivering this girl has cut the umbilical cord at a wrong place.

Yes, she is a human being, not a non-terrestrial person.

Only human beings have a navel button, I had read somewhere.

Now she was just a feet away.

I can see her clearly.

Dark lip sticks. Chiffon saree. Sleeveless blouse. Some cheap talcum powder. And some cheap perfume.

Come hither looks.

I was getting nervous.

Yes, she is a pros... sorry, commercial sex worker. Female at that.

"Karna hai kya? (Want to do it?)," she asked.

Her voice was soft and gentle.

Her trade USP.

I know what service she wanted to provide.

Am I in need of that service?

Good question.

Honestly I did not want to answer.

Sex is the best form of stress buster, I had read somewhere.

400 odd kilometres ride on a 40kmph speed truck carrying 28 tonne load.

The ride was smooth. But I am not used to travelling in trucks such long distances on highways that too in night time. Body was aching. A bit of relaxation is a necessity.

Sex? No.

Sleep? Yes.

Wanted to rush out from there.

It was past 1.30 a.m.

Hardly half an hour ago, I had arrived from Krishnagiri, Tamilnadu on a Mercurio Pallia car carrier with 8 Hyundai's i10s from Chennai for delivery in Delhi/Gurgaon in 7 days time.

The stoppage at this moment was Hubli in Karnataka.

It was my Day 2 on this 2800 km long journey to understand logistical challenges one faces when transporting goods across interstate borders.

I had left Chennai the previous evening 6.30 p.m.

"Worried?"

It was she again.

"What?," I responded.

"Aap ko dar lakta hain kya? Koi nahi ayega ither," (Are you afaid? No one will come here) she tried to assure me thinking that I was game for a sexual encounter with her, but was worried about police etc.

I remained silent. Also my legs were frozen. Out of fear. Out of anxiety.

Do I want to have sex with this young thing?

Bullshit.

"Sir, mere pas rubber hai," she said. (I have condoms)

The mention of condoms immediately brought back memories of Dr Neeraj Dhingra, Deputy Director General of National Aid Coordination Organisation (NACO), a government body set up under the Ministry of Healthcare whom I had met with Ved Shukla a fortnight ago in Delhi in his office.

We met to discuss the possibility of exploring the sex behaviour of drivers on highways. I was interested and Dr Dhingra briefed me a lot on the issues to be addressed. Junior officials in NACO were introduced to me to help me en route.

In fact, an official letter was put out to all NACO outfits in the states I was crossing through to help me with all support. Including supply of condoms!!!

This Hubli incident happened so soon. Instead myself offering condoms to drivers for safe sex, now I was being offered one for my personal use!

Friends, who were in the know of things, joked that I will be having a 'gala' trip on all nights during this 8-day, 7 night trip!

"Sorry. Mujhe jaroot nahi hai," (Sorry. I don't need your sexual services), I told her.

"Madrasi hai kya, aap?," (Are you from Madras?) she demanded.

My Bollywood style Hindi would have been the giveaway. She was smart enough to figure out my roots. Yes, I am from Chennai, the erstwhile Madras.

I did not respond to her.

Now she was much closer to me: less than a feet away.

I can smell her perfume.

Too heady.

In another step, her nipples would definitely rub my chest.

I was worried.

55 years never strayed away.

Now this challenge!

A pleasant or punishing encounter?

"I am tired. I am going to sleep," I told her.

She was not ready to give up.

"Hum saath mein soyengi," (We will sleep together), she said.

I began to perspire. It was November and had rained in the past few days Still I was sweating.

The fear factor.

I stepped back to avoid and body contacts with her.

What if...

her nipples brush against me?

What if...

she forcefully hugs me?

What if ...

she quickly undresses me?

I was just wearing shorts which will come off in just one solitary pull downwards.

Oh God, why not someone come to the toilet and save me?

"Koi baat nahi. Basuri karengi. Aap ko kuch takleef nahi hogi... Ghoda sawari mein shayad ...," she said. (No issues. Let us do 'flute' style. You don't have to exert like in horseride style).

My breathing was getting quicker. Out of excitement or fear? Dunno.

"Chalo. Aap dar gaye hai," (No problem. You are afraid) she said and moved away.

Yes, she moved away.

Driver Umesh Rana enquired about the delay when I returned to the Tata 3516x model horse to sleep for the next couple of hours before resuming journey.

I narrated the entire story.

Umesh in his 20s could not hide his chuckle.

He did not make any nasty remarks.

But sure, he must have something to say. Out of politeness, kept quiet.

The Hubli incident made me do one thing over the next 6 nights.

Invariably we will reach a highway side dhaba (eating joint) where the truckers would halt for dinner and 4-hour sleep which also has a large parking space.

Every night, I would request Umesh or his assistant Pinto Sau (21 year old Jharkhandi) to accompany me to the toilet!

Honestly, I can never forget that girl's face outside Hubli toilet.

Was my flesh willing, but morality prevented any sex outside marriage?

Am clueless.

Will I be ready next time at least to face and talk boldly with this kind of service providers?

Dunno.

This Hubli encounter would have lasted a little under 5 minutes.

But it appears that I was "engaged" with her for eternity.

I have become time-unconscious.

What was I worried about?

Need time to assimilate and assess my capability: mental and physical.

Is it over really?

2,804 kilometres.

Over a period of 8 days.

From Chennai (southern part of India) to Gurgaon (northern India).

On a car-carrier weighing 28 tonnes.

With Hyundai's i10 vehicles. Eight in number. Four over four in two tier format.

Umesh Kumar Rana (29 years) at the steering and Pinto Kumar Sau (21 years) as his deputy.

Both hailing from the mineral rich Jharkhand state.

Passed through the states of Tamil Nadu, Kanataka, Maharastra, Gujarat, Rajasthan and Haryana.

What did I witness?

First the positives:

India is on a big move.

I can confidently say, "watch your highways to feel the pulse of the nation".

Honestly I am glad the Indian economy is literally on a roll.

Secondly, the nation is pretty young. Why do I say this?

A majority of drivers whom I meet over this 8-day odyssey are definitely in late 20s and ealy 30s.

The kind of Over Dimensional Cargo (ODC) I saw trundling on Indian roads gives a feeling of what India is upto. Boilers, windmasts, turbines, etc.

A big pat on NHAI's back. Lovely, broad roads.

Yes, there is a massive construction in the new or broading of existing ones is in full swing.

Must have crossed over 40 odd Toll Gates operated and managed by private sector. Amazing efficiency.

The highest Toll (user fee) paid in this trip was for the Pune-Mumbai Expressway - Rs.946.

There is always scope for improvement.

Now, the saddest part: the negatives.

The state machinery is corrupt.

AT every inter state border, I personally interacted or transacted with Commercial Tax and RTO officials and paid - yes, paid bribe - to ensure my truck's smooth passage.

The Mumbai crossing (from Panvel in Maharashtra to Ghodbunder) was the cesspot of hooliganism by state machinery. Knowingly or unknowningly.

These people behave like road mafia with private sector participation.

I personally witnessed the 3-4 hour long orchestrated congestation by Bruhan Mumbai oficials to extract their pound of flesh from illiterate driver who are physically tired.

I planto write letters to all state chief ministers/secretaries and the federal government.

Enough of this highhandedness.

Transporters are the backbone of our - for that matter - any nation.

If these unkempt, ugly and illiterate drivers decided not to ignite their engines, Mr Prime Minister, all your dream about building u a powerful nation,will come to a naught.

I feel cheated and irritated by the harsh treatment meted to the transporters at inter state borders.

If highways remain empty, Sir, neither raw materials will reach assembly plants nor the finished goods (whatever it may be - be it a car, textile, chemicals, oil etc) will reach the end user.

My eyes have welled up.

I can't see my desktop screen clearly.

So, here I stop.

For the time being...

What am I upto?

It is not a spur of the moment decision to travel onroad from Gurgaon/Haryana to Chennai/Tamil Nadu. No doubt, I  love travel because I firmly believe travel enhances one's knowledge.

Not for me reading the travel blogs of others to know more about a place or situation. Wherever it is possible to gain a first hand knowledge - because it involves money to travel and time to spend which again is valuable - I don't hesitate.

During the course of my interaction with Logistics Service Providers (LSPs), fleet owners and the senior officials of Society of Indian Automotive Manufacturers (SIAM) everyone kept on talking about poor infrastructure and the lack of professionalism among the fleet owners.

Above all, everyone expressed concern over the paucity of quality drivers. With traditional drivers hailing from Punjab, Haryana and Himachal getting richer after unlocking  their land value opting out of driving profession, there is a huge supply demand mismatch.

Interaction with drivers per se confirmed the worst fears. How they were harassed at every place: police, toll road authorities, state border octroi officials and what not.

Plus, drivers and cleaners stay away from family for long stretches and live poorly en route because there are not adequate resting and refreshing facilities.

That's when it struck me to see for myself what ordails they undergo. When I broached the subject with Vipul Nanda of Mercurio Pallia Logistics (See Photo) who transports various finished vehicles from Gurgaon to Chennai with Maruti vehicles and return with Hyundai iin the reverse direction, he was appreciative of the initiative and offered a seat in his vehicles.

Maruti officials when I briefed them, said "go ahead".

See for yourself.

Originally I wanted to embark in the third week of September, but Vipul persuaded me to postpone by a few weeks so that the climate is better across the Guraon-Chennai stretch.

My Editor inChief Raj Misra was little worried about my health: since I am a diabetic and on strict diet regimen. Yes, it is a challenge.

But challenges are there to be surmounted.

Even my wife screamed at me for this footloose idea, but got persuaded.

I plan to lead a life like that of a driver and his cleaner.

Watching all stakeholders from close quarters.