Driver story: First Trip (Foodie Family- Four )

 

When we reached Trichy, it was around 9:50 PM. I was wondering if we could still make it on time, considering the speed I was driving. Jessie, sitting beside me and observing my driving, randomly suggested that everyone should buy a saree. Divya, however, was too busy on her phone, chatting away, completely unaware of what was happening around her.

I said, “Let’s look for a big shop and check the map location.” They thought I was helping them like family. I took that role seriously—I felt responsible. When Maria suggested that I drive through a certain street, I followed her instructions. We ended up on a narrow, crowded lane packed with people and traffic.

Mom immediately scolded Maria, “What is this, Maria? We’re stuck in traffic! How are we going to reach the shop now?”

I replied calmly, “How would she know? We’re just following Google Maps.” Maria didn’t say anything back, though she was annoyed with Mom. She just kept quiet. But everyone was still focused on one thing—buying sarees. If I hadn’t spoken up for Maria, Jessie would’ve probably shouted at their mother, Violet.

I honked repeatedly to get through, but it didn’t help. The road was so congested, and most of the big shops were going to close soon. Suddenly, I saw a small intersection with a split road on both sides. I didn’t know whether to take a left or right, so I asked Maria, “Check the map. Tell me where we’re supposed to go.”

I stopped the car to look for a proper route. The road was too narrow, and Google Maps was suggesting we avoid it. I felt uneasy, so I stepped out and asked a nearby auto driver for help. Everyone inside the car was watching me, nervous and unsure about what was happening. Our car had blocked traffic behind us.

The auto driver said, “Go left, then take the first right and the second left. The main road is ahead. Don’t go straight, it’s a dead end. But Pothys—the famous dress shop—is just beyond that turn.”

While talking to him, I kept glancing at the car. Everyone looked scared inside, and the honking continued. Suddenly, a big guy got off his bike and stormed toward the driver’s seat, furious.

I quickly rushed back to the car. I tried to explain, “We’re new here. Got stuck. I’m moving the car now.” But the man started shouting, “How dare you stop the car and block traffic?”

I replied politely at first. “Okay, I’ll move.” But he kept shouting and trying to cause a scene. I lost my cool. “Do what you want, fucker!” I shouted, and drove off using the directions the auto driver had given.

The road was still narrow and packed with two-wheelers and vehicles. I kept my speed steady, determined to reach Pothys as soon as possible. At one point, a bike suddenly swerved in front of me. I had to brake hard and steer to the right to avoid it—just missing a tempo truck. It was intense. The truck stopped right where we would’ve been if I hadn’t reacted in time.

We took the second left and finally headed toward Pothys. I stopped the car near another shop because I’d need to take a U-turn that would take about 10 minutes. I told everyone, “Get down here and cross the road. You’ll reach the shop faster.” They agreed. Jessie didn’t seem in the mood for shopping, but Maria convinced her to come and choose sarees quickly. Everyone stepped out. I headed off to find a place to turn the car around.

Inside the shop, it was already 10:15 PM. They were just about to close. Only a few customers were still billing. The staff told us they couldn’t allow more entries and asked us to return the next day. But Jessie, ever the bold one, went straight to the counter and started negotiating with the manager. They eventually agreed to give us a few more minutes.

In the saree section, Mom (Violet) picked a dark green saree. Maria didn’t like it—she picked a red one, which Mom disapproved of. Divya stood by Maria’s side, but Jessie wandered off toward the mirror.

That floor was nearly empty. Jessie was feeling hot and unbuttoned two buttons of her checked shirt, revealing a short tank top underneath. She had a great figure and stood confidently in front of the mirror. Divya walked toward her, and Jessie looked at her reflection. Divya was petite. Maria, after having a baby, now looked like a typical young mother—her body had changed. Jessie was lost in her own world, until Divya asked what saree they were going to choose.

Maria showed her two options. Mom showed another two. Jessie asked them to finalize one. Eventually, they all voted for Maria’s red saree. Mom clearly didn’t like the choice—her expression said it all.

Jessie suggested, “Let’s just buy both.” Everyone agreed. But then Mom started objecting again. “Your husband’s sister-in-law already has this color! We should pick something else.”

She began pulling out ten more sarees from the racks. The salesman was visibly stressed. Maria, Jessie, and Divya all looked at her, fed up. Jessie was getting angry—she knew Mom always did this.

Suddenly, the lights in the showroom went off. The salesman said, “Billing is closed. It’s automatic. Please come back tomorrow morning.”

Jessie was furious but didn’t argue. She walked out silently. Maria scolded their mother, but Violet didn’t take it seriously. She even tried to convince the manager, “Give me ten more minutes!” But he refused.

Jessie walked straight to the car. I was standing outside, checking my phone. She looked angry and asked me for a cigarette. I didn’t say anything. I handed her the cigarette, lighter, and mouth spray. She asked, “Where do you smoke?” I pointed behind a water tanker parked nearby. She nodded and walked off.

A few minutes later, Maria, Divya, and Violet returned to the car. Maria was unusually quiet. She asked, “Where’s Jessie?”

“She went to the restroom, behind the lorry,” I replied.

Maria said, “I’ll go check,” and followed. Divya checked her phone and stayed silent. She wanted to go too, but didn’t.

I asked Mom, “Did you get the saree?”

“No,” she sighed. “They turned off the lights while we were still choosing. We’ll have to buy it in Kerala.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” I reassured her. “We’ll buy it tomorrow. By the way, what’s the function we’re going for?”

“We’re going to Saint Anthony’s Church,” she said proudly. “It’s very famous, in my village. We never miss this festival—our whole family gathers. It’s a huge event: marriages, engagements, ear piercings, tonsures, cake-cutting, biryani—everything happens on that day.”

It sounded amazing. I really wanted to see the festival.

As we spoke, she suddenly said, “Where are those two girls?”

“I’ll go check,” I offered. I knew why Jessie went there—but I wasn’t sure about Maria. I walked over and found something surprising.

Maria was smoking.

She looked relaxed in her yellow kurti, her curly hair catching the lorry’s light. She looked beautiful. She turned to me and said, “Thanks, brother, for getting us here on time. Your driving was awesome. The way you handled that guy in the market road—so manly, bro.”

Jessie heard her and gave a sharp look. “Shut up,” she snapped. She took one last puff, used the mouth spray, and sprayed Maria’s mouth too.

I walked back to the car and told Mom they’d be back in two minutes. I sat in the driver’s seat and buckled up. Jessie and Maria returned, looking fresh—like they’d just gone for a restroom break. They got in. This time, Mom sat in the back, and Jessie sat in the front with me.

Mom told Jessie, “It’s already 10:45. Stop at a good restaurant nearby. Check Google Maps.”

Jessie leaned forward, adjusting the display screen. Her chest lightly bounced with the movement. I was nervous, careful not to touch anything. I noticed Maria had also unbuttoned two buttons of her kurti after the restroom. But I kept driving.

Jessie took her time setting the GPS. Twice, I had to change gears—it got really close to her—but I made sure not to touch her. I even planned to stop the car, just so my actions didn’t make her uncomfortable. But she didn’t seem to care.

“Follow this route,” Jessie finally said. I caught her gaze in the mirror. Our eyes locked for a moment.

Divya received a message and laughed with Maria. In about 23 minutes, we reached “Border Rahmath Parotta Hotel.”

I stopped the car, and everyone got down. I went to park it safely since the hotel was on the highway. Inside, the restaurant was crowded and buzzing with life. The red and yellow lights gave it a vibrant, slightly haunting feel. I freshened up and came to the dining area, unsure of where to sit. Then Maria waved at me, asking me to join their table.

They welcomed me warmly. I sat next to Divya. Jessie and Maria were across from us. Mom Violet sat at the center. Jessie asked the waiter to take my order. I asked for 3 parottas, 1/4 chicken fry, and a lemon-sprite-pepper mix.

Everyone looked at me with approval. The food arrived fast. They were real foodies—no holding back. As we ate, Maria suddenly asked, “Who are you, really? You’re not a regular driver.”

“No,” I smiled. “I’m actually a digital marketer. I left my job last week. Driving and traveling help me feel better. So, I took this opportunity.”

Maria nodded, “That’s awesome. I work in a repo bank. You’re on a good path, man.”

Mom asked, “Where do you stay?”

“In Chennai, with my parents,” I said.

“What did you tell them?”

“I just said I’m going out with office friends. So they didn’t ask much.”

Maria and Divya laughed. Jessie quietly continued eating.

More food arrived, and they all shared and ate peacefully. Maria loved chicken, Mom loved biryani, Jessie was all about the parotta, and Divya preferred naan.

The waiter brought my special drink—Maria liked it and ordered two more, one for Mom. After dinner, I went to wash my hands. Mom asked if I was full. I said yes. They tried to make me eat more, but I insisted or I’d get sleepy.

Maria laughed, “Okay, brother.”

As I went to the parking area, I remembered I had no cigarettes—I’d given my kit to Jessie. I spotted a small shop 800 meters away, walked over, bought some cigarettes and water, and came back. I drank water, cleaned my face, and started smoking.

Suddenly, I felt a presence. Jessie was standing behind me.

I offered her the kit. “Keep it,” I said. “I bought my own.”

She hesitated, then kept it. In the red lights, her loose hair flowing in the wind, she looked stunning. I caught her gaze; she stared back sharply. I looked away and smoked the last puff.

Soon, everyone came near the car. Jessie and Maria shared a silent look—something unsaid passed between them.

This time, Jessie sat in the front seat with me again. Maria sat in the back with Mom and Divya. I asked Jessie to wear her seatbelt. As I started driving, Maria asked me to stop—she wanted a Pepsi or Coke.

I told her there was a shop a little behind. “You all stay in the car. I’ll go.”

But Maria said, “I’ll come. A little walk is good.” Jessie and Divya agreed. Maria told Divya to stay with Mom.

We walked toward the shop. Maria whispered, “People are staring at us. Let’s go back.” Jessie said nothing.

I asked Maria, “What do you want? Pepsi or Coke?”

“Coke,” she replied. I got the bottle and we started walking back. Suddenly, a Punjabi truck parked in front of us, blocking the road. The driver and cleaner got down and walked into a nearby hotel.

Jessie immediately pulled out cigarettes and gave one to Maria. “No one will see us now,” she smirked.

Maria offered me one. Jessie looked at me. “Join us.”

And just like that, the three of us smoked together in the middle of the highway, under the cover of a truck, in a moment that felt like something out of a film.

The Highway Breakdown next.