A TAXI RIDE TO REMEMBER

(From the Wall Street Journal)
On Mumbai's Streets, Cabbies Fight To Keep Passengers Uncomfortable


Drivers of City's Famed Rattletrap Taxis Show Road Rage Over Law Requiring New Cars

MUMBAI -- Mumbai's taxi drivers are battling to block the newest trend in hired transport here: electronic meters, home pickups and air conditioning.Customers are demanding modern taxis to better represent this booming city, as well as provide a modicum of comfort in a steamy, tropical climate. Mumbai's authorities, keen to make the city the new "Shanghai" of Asia by 2020, have decided to phase out the city's rusty old jalopies and are requiring that every taxi more than 25 years old be scrapped.For nearly half a century, Padminis have been the car of choice for Mumbai's 200,000 cabbies. But the aging black-and-yellows are being replaced with fleets of modern cabs. WSJ reporter Eric Bellman says the Padmini drivers aren't going without a fight.But many of Mumbai's 200,000 or so taxi drivers are having none of it. And they are resisting those who would offer a nicer ride in shinier new cars -- with strikes, court cases and violence. Sheikh Shamin Ahmed, 43 years old, was eating chicken fried rice at a roadside stand next to his new, metallic-green cab when two old taxis full of old-taxi drivers rolled up and started to beat him. They told him his fancy new Mahindra Renault with its air conditioning and GPS navigation system had better stay away from their customers. Mr. Ahmed promised to leave once he finished his food. The angry cabbies grabbed his plate and threw it on the ground, he says.He says he can't pick up customers at many taxi stands, where long lines of the old cabs wait for customers. Because he is afraid of another scuffle, he lets old cabs go in front of him at the gas station and he can't pick up customers at the airport without getting a call. After the attack, he couldn't even go to the police station because the place is surrounded by old taxis and their drivers."In some neighborhoods, they won't even let us stop," he says. "We can't do anything because they outnumber us." With more than 50,000 taxis, the city formerly known as Bombay has one of the biggest cab fleets in the world, as well as one of the most antiquated. Most of the taxis are Premier Padminis, the Indian version of the Fiat SpA's 1100 model that the Italian car maker stopped producing in 1966. Even Premier Ltd., the Indian company that had the right to build them here, stopped manufacturing them in 2000. Drivers keep them running with scrap parts and use metal patches to cover the rust holes. The little black-and-yellow cab is a Mumbai icon celebrated in Bollywood films and modern art. Riding in one is an experience as gritty as the city. Despite Mumbai's muggy 90-degree weather, they don't have air conditioning and their old suspensions mean passengers feel every one of the city's many potholes. When it comes time to pay, the bill riders have to depend on a mechanical meter box on the hood of the car, which shows the fare as it would have been in 1973. A fare card is used to multiply the meter fare by 15 to compute actual charges. The new cabs charge about 40% more than the old ones. But fares remain relatively cheap. Most rides around town cost no more than $15, even when the cars are stuck for hours in traffic. Drivers say the old cars are tough to drive because they lack power-steering and the engines get so hot, they can feel it on their legs. If they get more than three customers, they have to slow down to keep the car from bottoming out. The drivers also say they struggle with lung and throat problems because of the hours they spend stuck in traffic with the windows open, inhaling exhaust fumes. Still, most drivers love their Padminis. They are cheap to buy and maintain. Because they have few electric parts, they can survive the regular monsoon floods. Meanwhile, their sofa-style front and back seats are easy to sleep on if you stick your feet out the window. That's an important feature for drivers who live in their cabs for days at a time."We have trusted this Padmini like a second wife for the last 40 years," says Anthony Quadros, a second-generation driver and head of one of the taxi drivers' unions here. "You still love your wife even though she gets old." Since the local government reforms, though, new challengers have popped up. Chief among them: Meru Cab Co. The business was started in 2007 by Neeraj Gupta, who used to manage a minibus company that shuttled late-night call-center employees from International Business Machines Corp., Accenture Ltd. and elsewhere to work and back. In the past two years, Meru Cab's fleet in Mumbai has grown to around 1,400 cabs. Meru uses the latest models from Maruti Suzuki India Ltd., Tata Motors Ltd. and Mahindra Renault Pvt. Ltd. They have air conditioning and electronic meters and a state-of-the-art dispatch system. They can be reserved for pickups at any location by phone. Standard cabs are just hailed on the streets. Drivers of the new cabs have to pass a test on safety, hygiene and etiquette; the standard taxi driver only needs a driving license and an eighth-grade education. Meru has become so popular that it has to turn away about half of the more than 10,000 calls it gets every day, and reservations have to be made about four hours in advance. "Nobody wants a black-and-white TV when you have LCD screens," says Mr. Gupta. Mr. Gupta also is trying to introduce a better-mannered driver. The ID cards on the dashboards of Meru Cabs outline how the company's drivers pledge to act. "I will not drink and drive," "I will be well-groomed," and "I will charge the customer as per the meter," are a few of Mr. Gupta's commandments laid out on the cards. Posters around the Meru training center also aim to change cantankerous cabbie ways "Even ants can stay in a lane, why can't we?" says one. "Turn off your high beams, they blind other drivers," says another. But the army of individual drivers of the old Padmini taxis is not ready for a newer, kinder cab culture. Last year, they went on a one-day strike, leaving the more than one-million people who take cabs to their own devices. Cab drivers tried but failed in court to block the rules requiring newer cabs. Now, some have turned to intimidation. The taxi tensions are strongest at the city's domestic airport. The airport has a brand-new covered area for cabs where, initially, old and new cabs mingled. But passengers were waiting in line for the next modern cabs rather than choosing the old ones. After watching the choicest customers being whisked away, the Padmini drivers got mad. "All the rich people want them, and all we get is the leftover beggars," says Surya Singh, a black-and-yellow taxi driver who regularly waits hours in the hot sun for a chance to pick up passengers at the airport. "We want to get rid of the Meru cabs." After some of the old-taxi drivers started beating up Meru cab drivers and stoning windshields, the police asked the new cabs to wait for customers to call to phone at a spot three blocks from the airport exit. Meru drivers at the airport say their business has plunged, and now they can't even go to the nearby tea stall for a snack.