Chapter 1: Breaking New Ground

When I used to drive big trucks, I was always the first to break new ground, what we drivers call rakshak todna—clearing the road when others were too scared. Only after I had passed would the other trucks dare to follow, and afterwards, I’d receive many cash envelopes as a token of thanks. Sometimes, they’d slip me a thick envelope, sometimes just a folded note with a chai tapri’s address scrawled on it.

In our business, sometimes, when you finish a risky trip, the younger lads would bend down, dust on their foreheads, while the older ones would just press a warm envelope into my hand, their eyes saying more than words. It’s the way things are on the highways, with chai tapris dotting the roadside and the smell of diesel clinging to your clothes long after you park the truck. Sometimes, at a lonely dhaba, someone would whisper, "Rohan Bhai, jo karte ho na, sabke bas ki baat nahi hai."

People often ask me, “Have you ever seen anything strange while breaking through evil?” I think for a bit and reply, “Nothing much, just people stopping cars at night—sometimes a scammer pretending to be hit lying in the middle of the road, and sometimes, several identical villages appearing by the highway..."

Those questions always come late at night, over a glass of Old Monk or when the rain is lashing the windscreen, making the world outside look slippery and unreal. My answer is always half a joke, but there’s truth in it—so many times I’ve driven past the same banyan tree twice, or seen a family of four waving for a lift in the middle of nowhere, faces blank as clay. But in our business, you learn quickly—don’t stop, don’t look back, just drive on.