Mumbai
3 AM Mumbai is honest Mumbai. People can’t pretend when they’re desperate for a ride.
Anil has been driving Mumbai’s night shifts for 15 years, and his taxi has become a confessional booth for the city’s insomniacs, shift workers, and lost souls. His meter might track kilometers, but his memory tracks stories.
“Day passengers talk about traffic, weather, politics. Night passengers? They talk about life. A woman getting divorced who doesn’t want to go home. A doctor who just lost a patient. A young man who got fired and doesn’t know how to tell his parents.”
“People ask me why I don’t drive during the day – more money, safer roads. But during the day, people see me as just a driver. At night, sometimes I’m the only person willing to listen.”
He keeps a small thermos of tea and always offers it to passengers who seem troubled. “My wife makes extra every night. She says, ‘If you’re going to collect broken hearts, at least warm them up a little.'”
“You know what I’ve learned? Rich people, poor people, educated, uneducated – at 3 AM, everyone’s the same. Everyone’s just trying to get somewhere safe. Everyone needs someone to treat them like they matter.”
“Last month, a passenger left his wallet in my car. Inside was a suicide note. I drove around for three hours looking for him. Found him sitting by the sea, crying. We talked till sunrise. He’s getting help now. Sends me a text every week – ‘Still here, Anil bhai.'”
“People think driving a taxi at night is about transportation. But sometimes, you’re transporting hope.”
In a city that can make anyone feel invisible, Anil proves that the smallest acts of human kindness can save lives.
– Zara