Have you been stood up by a cab driver at a critical juncture? Have you experienced the taxi swerve when the cabbie closes his eyes momentarily? Have you seen bottles strewn in the neighbourhood overnight? Have you been quietly studied in the front mirror?

Here is my creative take on the life of the new age Indian cab driver as “I am cabdriver”.  

Note : I am suffering from creative schizophrenia and here is my second personality of a cabbie after being a biker in my previous poem “I am biker”. Be warned, more may come!