If I did not thank my parents, I did not get what I wanted,” said Joseph, the 76-year-old taxi driver I met in London. He watched my daughter Tiara take some money from me for an ice cream, and leave the cab while we waited. “Yes,” I
nodded. “That’s the way it should be, but everything has changed. Today it is just an expectation,” I said.
“My daughter has five children from five different men,” he said, disgustedly. “She deserves to be hung, and all she does is shrug her shoulders and says it’s her life.” He hung his head, while we waited for Tiara to return. “I have been driving cabs for 51 years in London city to support my children. Today, none of them care for me. In fact, I still work hard to support my youngest son who lives with me.”
It was hard to believe that Joseph was 76 years old, as he cranked up the engine to start his taxi. “Things were different,” he said, reminiscing about another time. “Women were elegant, and there was no way a man would be sitting while a lady was standing. She never opened the door on her own. It just never happened,” he said. We both laughed, as Tiara came back into the taxi slamming the door shut. “People were kinder. Today if you fall on the street because of a heart attack, 90 per cent of the people will either have no time or will be too scared to help you. People have become survivors. It’s a different world,” he exclaimed shaking his head.
“So is the world deteriorating or evolving?” I asked him quite interested in his stories of an era before. “The human race has deteriorated, but technology today is beautiful,” he said. “Before the cellphones came about, I would sometimes run errands for people only to convey messages. It is all so easy now,” he explained, finding today’s technology a miracle, which no one could have fathomed when he was a young man.
While we were nearing our destination, Jack suddenly asked me, “Do you believe in life after death? Do you fear death?” A little surprised at his questions, I paused, and said that I was not convinced about giving a definite answer as yet. “I feel we have this life and then after that it is only the unknown. Death is inevitable,” I said.
Reprimanding me, Jack said, “There is difference between spirituality and the body, young lady. Every night, our spirit leaves us. We die every night. In the morning the spirit returns. Don’t you wonder why we sometimes have double vision or our feet and hands don’t move? This is because the spirit is settling in.”
Not at all convinced with his explanation, I interrupted, “When do you believe one actually dies permanently?” My daughter started making eyes at me as if to say “Bas mama, enough.” Jack turned his head with silver hair, saying, “There is a silver line between the spiritual self and the body. When that is cut off, then the soul does not return. Then you die.” To each his own belief, I thought to myself. Who is to judge about the unknown and other people’s beliefs?
He stopped the car. We got out to pay. “How long will you keep driving?” I asked him. After all he was 76! “Age is only a number. We only get wiser and more experienced,” he said. “Would you like to come out on a date with me?” he said, smiling, his wrinkles growing deeper.