Smart man, I would say!

Overslept a bit today and left home a little later than usual - about 09.30 am or so.

The traffic was out on the roads in full strength and there was a long queue of vehicles. Motorcycles. Scooters. Autorickshaws. Taxis. Cars. Buses. All waiting for the space to get on to the Ring Road - which is like the M25 in London and busier.

It made sense to walk and cross the Ring Road on foot. That none of the autorickshaws were ready to go to Connaught Place, where my office is, made the decision easier.

It is just under a kilometre's walk from my flat, and where the spacious and least crowded part of Delhi begins. The area starts with flats for government officials, followed by the diplomatic/embassy area, followed by big for top politicians and party offices, followed by even bigger President's House and Parliament and finally the various government ministeries. With the residents of these areas having official vehicles, getting an auto didn't seem to be a problem.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. Even though walking was quicker, the smarter people used the traffic jam behind to hire all the autorickshaws and there was hardly an empty one coming my way. For a while, I toyed with the idea of taking a bus to work. It has been a few years since I got onto one, and don't even know what the current fare-structure is.

Then, a rickety old Maruti Omni van stopped next to me. Connaught Place. Connnaught Place. Seemed like a private hire vehicle, but it had impressive looking 'Ministry of Agriculture' stickers on it - so I hesitated. Maybe someone next to me worked for the ministry and the driver wanted him/her to hop on. Or maybe it was a car-pool for ministry workers. Hello. Do you want to go or not? came the voice again. Sure, I said, to the generous offer and hopped into the van.

There were five other people in the car, apart from the driver. The three slimmer people sat comfortably on one side. The three "healthy" people, including me, cramped on the other seat.

Where do you want to go? Katurba Gandhi Marg. I can drop you at Janpath. That's alright. It is just 5-10 minutes walk from work. Fine. That will be 15 rupees.

Aha. The enteprising government official had seen a gap in the market, and set up a nice little earner on the side. He worked for the Ministry of Agriculture and had to go towards Central Delhi anyway. Getting seven more people in vehicle would generate 75 rupees a journey or 750 rupees a week for return journeys. That would cover the weekly cost of petrol and the parking was free, courtesy the ministry.

Apart from me and another woman, all the others were regular customers. The Sikh car-owner had regular clients, regular income and, most importantly, a strong goodwill from the passengers who didn't have to spend time waiting for or haggling with autorickshaw-drivers.

As a passenger, my journey was slightly longer than usual but cost me one-fifth the usual fare. Surely, a win-win for everyone involved.

I know car pool is a western solution to a western problem. But this seems like a local solution to a local problem. A lot of people still rely on affordable public transport and there aren't that many options available.

While Delhi Metro shapes up gradually and more buses are added to the fleet of Delhi Transport Corporation, thousands of new cars get onto Delhi roads every year. If even a small percentage of these cars picked up paying passengers headed in the same direction, there will be less congestion on the road. And the auto-rickshaw drivers may become more amenable if they realised people had other options.