An encounter with an unforgettable passenger

A FEW years ago, I used to drive a cab for a living. I drove the night shift.

Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in the dark. Some shared stories about their lives. Some told jokes, and some just stayed silent throughout the journey.

During this time, I encountered people who amazed me, inspired me and made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman whom I picked up late one August.

When I arrived at her place, it was around 2.30am. I honked twice, and waited.

Under such circumstances, most drivers would just drive away. But I have seen many people who depend on taxis as their only means of transportation. So I decided to ring the doorbell and open the front gate.

Just as I approached, the door opened. “Just a minute,” I heard an elderly voice call out.

After about a minute, the door opened. A woman in her 80s stood before me. She was very thin and frail-looking. She was supporting herself by holding onto the gate.

She was carrying a small suitcase.”Would you please put my bag in the car?” she said.

I took her bag to the trunk, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and walked towards the cab.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. “It’s nothing,” I told her.

After she was seated, I got into the cab and asked her where she would like to go. She gave me an address and asked me to drive through the housing area and then through downtown.

“It’s not the shortest route,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I am in no hurry. I am heading to Grace Nursing Home.”

I looked in the rear-view mirror. The old lady’s eyes were glistening.

“I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long. I will be in the home till my ... . ”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

“Sure, Ma’am. Just tell me where to go. By the way, my name is Vagish.”

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she used to work as a secretary. We drove through where she and her husband lived when they were newlyweds. She told me stories about her childhood, her life during the Japanese regime. At times, she would ask me to stop in front of a particular building and would sit in the darkness and stare at it.

As dawn was breaking, she asked me to drive her to the address she had given me. It was a low building, surrounded by colourful flowers.

Two staff members came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.

I opened the trunk and took the suitcase to the door.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse. She was already seated in a wheelchair by then. “Nothing,” I said.

She insisted I take some money. “There will be more customers,” I said. Without thinking, I bent down and gave her a hug.

She held me tightly. “You gave this old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I did not pick up any more passengers that day. I drove about aimlessly, thinking, “What if that woman had got an angry driver, or someone impatient?”

Thinking back on my life, I have never done anything more important than drive this old woman about town.