The taxi driver with 6 fingers

Fresh from my recently consumed Big Mac meal grabbed on the run, I made my way to meet my business associate, T, at the hotel lobby. We were supposed to catch a cab to the Coach pick up point together half an hour later but the KL traffic was so bad, that we decided to leave immediately.

Dragging my briefcase/luggage, I made my way to the hotel lobby, looking every bit the professional who had come into KL for business and had hit 18 holes and was now making my way to catch a flight.

Looks are terribly deceiving.

After meeting up with T, we stepped outside into the humid PJ air. The air today was less smoggy than it usually was. The rains in the morning had cleared the smog away. It did not matter to me anyway --- I was cooped up in our Office HQ, receiving my Battle Orders to increase sales, increase the pressure, increase distribution, increase brand awareness....in a shorter amount of time.

We stood in line behind a couple who wanted to catch a cab to Bukit Bintang. We waited as the doorman approached an incoming taxi.

"How much to Bukit Bintang?"

The doorman hailed at the couple, " $20 to Bukit Bintang, ok?"

The woman remarked to the man, " Crazy! $20 to Bukit Bintang?"

The doorman took that as a no and waved the taxi on.

The roads in and around KL and PJ were so jammed on a saturday afternoon, that no cab driver wanted to pick any passengers running on the meter. They figured that they were better off quoting a flat fee. For that afternoon, it was the cabbies who were king.

The doorman came back to the queue and approached us.

"Where you going, Sir?"

"Menara Axis."

"OK, you wait here, Sir. Wait for this couple to go first."

I nodded in acknowledgement.

Couple in front of us finally gets a cab that brings them to Bukit Bintang for $10.

We were next in line.

The next cab pulls up to us and the efficient doorman is already briefing him on our destination.

"Sir," said the doorman, facing us, "Will you be able to direct the cabbie to Menara Axis? He is not too familiar with the location."

"Cannot lah, 'bang! Driver should know what! Close to PJ Hilton. If he knows where that is, I can show him."

"Ok, ok, PJ Hilton he knows. It will be $15," replied the doorman.

"Sure or not? He knows ah?" I asked suspiciously.

"No problem, Sir. He says OK. Have a good day!"

I walked towards the trunk to keep our luggage. T stands behind me and squeals, " Eh? Sure or not? He can make it or not? Otherwise we get lost then how?"

"No worries, T. Should be ok."

I crossed both fingers and toes.

We entered the cab. An Indian cabbie is at the wheel.

"Boss, Menara Axis, you tau? Boleh ah? Bagus."

Honestly, it did not do much to assure me. You know, when your cabbie starts shaking his head from side to side in a rocking motion and answers you that he is sure of the destination when initially, he wasn't sure, you start having doubts. But then again, I had to do it to reassure T. After all, what were the chances of finding another cab in this rush hour traffic, to take us to our destination on time?

As soon as we drove out of the hotel driveway, we were immediately faced with the snarling jam. The cabbie remarked," The government bodoh! If we want to go north, should make a road to the right. If we want to travel south, should make a road to the left. What the government do? They make 1 road to the left and both those going north and south use the same road. Stupid dah!"

His dashboard was filled with Hindu inscriptions and mini idols. Cab drivers the world over seem to have this in common --- the reliance on their gods to protect them at their cab driving jobs. The muslims, the buddhists, the taoists, the catholics....they're all the same.

That was when I noticed our cabbies 6 fingers. Left hand was intact with 5 but the right hand was made up of only 1 thumb. Where the rest of the fingers should have been, they were all missing from the knuckles onwards.

"You're a brave man," I remarked.

He looked at me quizzically.

"Your hand," I pointed, "But you still drive."

He looked at me through the mirror and smiled a toothy grin.

"Got to live. Must survive. No problem!"

And he proved it by driving with his right hand only....I mean, his right thumb only.

"So, what happened?" I cautiously prodded.

"I was 18 years old when it happened. Accident."

He went on to describe how he had to be kept in the hospital for 2 months and after that, at home for the next 7 months for the wounds to heal.

"After that 7 months, I told myself that I cannot feel sorry for myself. I must live."

And so he headed to the capital, KL, to find work.

His first job was a petrol pump attendant. The Kiosk attendant took pity on him and allowed him to sleep at the back of the kiosk at night. His salary was $20 ringgit a day.

Then, he came to know the truckers who came to the kiosk to refuel their trucks and soon found that they earned much more than what he had. He plucked the courage to ask one of them for a job and one of them agreed to make him his assistant.

"I sat beside in the truck and helped in everything. When raining, I run back to cover the truck."

It was on one of these rides that his trucker partner asked him to give a go at driving the truck. And as they say, the rest is history.

To get a license to drive a truck, he had to apply at the motor vehicles department. Upon seeing his right hand, they referred him to a doctor to certify that he was able. The doctor took him on a test drive in a car and he passed with flying colours.

"It was easy lah! I sit in the car only and no problem. They give me license to drive car and truck. But no motorcycle. But it's ok."

He and his new trucker friend got along so well for the next 23 years, that he was offered his trucker friend's daughters into marriage. But he declined. It was after driving trucks that he decided to finally go into be a cabbie for the past 3 years. He has a wife and 2 children.

"God give to us healthy body, we must use it to work, to survive. Those who have perfect bodies, do not work, but stick out their hands to ask for money, even god cannot help them."

"I no right hand, never mind. I am already 60+. But you must have the feeling," he points to his head," the feeling to work hard and to live."

I love the lessons gleaned from people, like this Indian cabbie. Professors at top universities have laws, theories and hypotheses. Corporate honchos have their track records and political fights. But people like this cabby, are the real heroes and survivors in our society.

But you must have the feeling...