I've often complained about these humongous “kola bang” (bull frogs) -- the yellow Ambassador taxis occupying road space in the congested streets of my hometown Calcutta. One might say these ambassador taxis have now become synonymous with the city and assumed iconic status.
Stuck in a traffic jam in the sweltering humid heat, I've often wondered aloud why they were not taken off the roads. “One person (passenger) occupying all that space in an Ambassador!”, I exclaimed. I have even used it as a euphemism to embody all that was wrong with the city – steeped in nostalgia but low on practical utility, more sentimental than logical.
But now that the death knell for the Amby (yes, the short form for Ambassador) has been sounded, the last car having rolled out of the Hindustan Motors factory at Uttarpara, it surprisingly makes me a tad nostalgic.
While paeans have been written of late about the Amby by proud owners, my association with the Ambassador is in its ‘Taxi’ avatar. The yellow taxis alongside their black-and-yellow avatar as well.
Through the narrow lanes and “gullies” of north Calcutta, I have never ceased to be amazed at how deftly these taxi drivers, without so much as a little murmur of protest, manouver these vehicles.
I must confess, for me the word 'taxi' is unconsciously associated with an Amby, the other brands of cars that we see on the roads or use are just ‘Cabs’.
Calcuttans have always vouched for the Amby, for being the “Best vehicle for transporting luggage” and large families. The Howrah station without the long queue of Ambassador taxis; simply unimaginable.
For a city where public transport has always ruled the roost and personal vehicles have gained mass currency only in the last decade, the ambassador is “Quintessentially Calcutta”.
Moving to Delhi and travelling to other cities, one started realizing the indulgence and indolence of it all – the Amby taxis; huge cars with most often a single passenger sprawling himself on the back seat. The Padmini Premier taxis in Bombay and the three wheeler autos in Delhi seemed more sensible but Calcuttans, as anyone will tell you, are known for being emotional rather than sensible. The diesel guzzling, black smoke spewing machines that most taxis had become (pollution norms are now more stringent in the city), had me wishing that these vehicles should vanish or “wither away” (like the Marxists had done from the Calcutta horizon).
How outraged the Calcuttan was when the Traffic police decided to ban more than four passengers to a taxi. “How dare they ?” thundered the citizen. In which other vehicle, can you package and transport seamlessly, the joint family together, uncles, aunts, cousins and even neighbours ?
Nonetheless another confession, its always been a reassuring sign coming out of a late night dinner or pub in Calcutta to find an Ambassador taxi waiting at the door step. Over the years the Sikh (“Sardarji”) taxi drivers had given way to the drivers from Bihar. And GPS enabled cabs aka Delhi; Nah. One always felt safe in the Calcutta taxi.
The Amby taxis of Calcutta have been immortalized in films, right from the black and white era to the present day and an infallible iconic photograph of the city is sure to be the one of a black and yellow taxi in front of the majestic Victoria Memorial .
The Ambassador as a personal car went off the roads a long time ago and now I guess it’s time for the Amby Taxi to drive into the pages of history. It’s a sweet memory and it should stay that way.
It's time has come and I shall be one among the many who will bid it a sweet good bye with maybe even a tear hidden somewhere.
