Barely 18 years old at the time, Rajul Chergat ran away from home and took the only train standing at the platform. That train brought her to Mumbai and after being here for more than decade, 35-year-old Chergat has not let the wheels beneath her stop turning.
An Uber and Ola driver by profession, this single mother has built her life from scratch. “I got married by the age of 16 and had a daughter a year later. I had a fight with my husband and decided to leave. There were no trains in my village Kanakpur in Chattisgarh. I don’t know how I did it but I travelled to Benaras and took a train. When the train halted, I realised I reached Mumbai. For 10 years, none of my relatives or family knew about my whereabouts,” she said.
Upon arriving in Mumbai, Chergat was sent to Kasturba Mahila Vastigruha (a woman’s shelter in Deonar) by the cops at the railway station. “Forget trains, I had not seen railway tracks in my life. Everybody in my village only focused on farming, none of us had seen the world outside of our homes. Women in my family were expected to follow the orders given to them. We were not allowed to have thoughts of our own or even speech of our own, I felt suffocated,” she said.
At the shelter, Chergat had many menial jobs, supervised the administrative work and washed cars. “The superintendent’s husband was a cop. He used to give me Rs.5 to wash his car everyday. Soon I saved Rs.500 and bought myself a new dress. That’s when the superintended became curious and asked me how I bought a dress and when I told her the story, she was very happy. She thought I should learn how to drive. One day, while washing the car I sat in the driver’s seat and kept moving the steering with much resistance but it just didn’t move. Later that day, I was called into the office and told that the wheel was bent. They asked me if I did something to it and I said yes after much hesitation. They told me that steering moves once the key goes in to unlock it and I have ruined the wheel. They said they’ll have to repair it and it’ll cost money which scared me. The superintended really helped me though,” she said.
From driving tractors in her village to driving cars in the city, Chergats journey wasn’t a smooth ride. After attending a driving school and getting her license, she moved out of the shelter in 1999 and started looking for a job. “When I had arrived in Mumbai, I had only one answer to cops’ enquiry, I want a job. I got a job as a caretaker in a good house and began doing menial jobs to get by. They had a car and even though I had a license, I didn’t have actual road experience, which they gave me. Soon I started dropping and picking up the children from school but I wanted to do more so I quit that job,” she tells us.
Sporting a short crop and formal shirts ever since she can remember, Chergat has always been what you might term as a ‘tomboy’. After quitting, Chergat worked in Mantralaya till she found out about the pre-paid taxi service at Airport. Working with 4C cabs and Viirni cabs driven by women, Chergat has now spent a considerable part of her life making people reach their destinations.
The day she bought her own 6-seater Ertiga car and travelled back to her village to show her dear ones what she had achieved, Chergats eyes and heart swelled with pride. “After ten years had passed and I had established myself in the city, I went to my house and announced my arrival. They had no idea if I was living or dead and had no way of reaching me. Last year, I drove 1,600 kms to reach my village by car. Everyone was so happy and proud of me. They have now seen me giving interviews on TV channels and it amazes them. They want me to fight elections now,” she said.Upon arriving in Mumbai, Chergat was sent to Kasturba Mahila Vastigruha (a woman’s shelter in Deonar) by the cops at the railway station. “Forget trains, I had not seen railway tracks in my life. Everybody in my village only focused on farming, none of us had seen the world outside of our homes. Women in my family were expected to follow the orders given to them. We were not allowed to have thoughts of our own or even speech of our own, I felt suffocated,” she said.
At the shelter, Chergat had many menial jobs, supervised the administrative work and washed cars. “The superintendent’s husband was a cop. He used to give me Rs.5 to wash his car everyday. Soon I saved Rs.500 and bought myself a new dress. That’s when the superintended became curious and asked me how I bought a dress and when I told her the story, she was very happy. She thought I should learn how to drive. One day, while washing the car I sat in the driver’s seat and kept moving the steering with much resistance but it just didn’t move. Later that day, I was called into the office and told that the wheel was bent. They asked me if I did something to it and I said yes after much hesitation. They told me that steering moves once the key goes in to unlock it and I have ruined the wheel. They said they’ll have to repair it and it’ll cost money which scared me. The superintended really helped me though,” she said.
From driving tractors in her village to driving cars in the city, Chergats journey wasn’t a smooth ride. After attending a driving school and getting her license, she moved out of the shelter in 1999 and started looking for a job. “When I had arrived in Mumbai, I had only one answer to cops’ enquiry, I want a job. I got a job as a caretaker in a good house and began doing menial jobs to get by. They had a car and even though I had a license, I didn’t have actual road experience, which they gave me. Soon I started dropping and picking up the children from school but I wanted to do more so I quit that job,” she tells us.
Sporting a short crop and formal shirts ever since she can remember, Chergat has always been what you might term as a ‘tomboy’. After quitting, Chergat worked in Mantralaya till she found out about the pre-paid taxi service at Airport. Working with 4C cabs and Viirni cabs driven by women, Chergat has now spent a considerable part of her life making people reach their destinations.
The day she bought her own 6-seater Ertiga car and travelled back to her village to show her dear ones what she had achieved, Chergats eyes and heart swelled with pride. “After ten years had passed and I had established myself in the city, I went to my house and announced my arrival. They had no idea if I was living or dead and had no way of reaching me. Last year, I drove 1,600 kms to reach my village by car. Everyone was so happy and proud of me. They have now seen me giving interviews on TV channels and it amazes them. They want me to fight elections now,” she said.
Ever since she can remember, Chergat has wanted to do something and set an example for people to follow. Today, she drives for both, Uber and Ola, and even takes driving lessons for people. “Some people behave very rudely with me but I know what I have to do and this work suits me. I don’t let these people bother me,” she said.
She is thankful to her friend’s mother who made her aware of the opportunities. “It is because of her reference that I got into these cab services. I was in Deonar living with a mixed bunch of women who were rescued from red light areas, who were sold to brothels, married as minors and more. Most of them stayed with sewing, beauty parlour and other such professions. I didn’t see them progressing with their thoughts,” she said.
Her 18-year-old is now an aspiring painter and Chergat wants to see her settled in her career before she decides to go back to her village. “In the next five years, I am planning to participate in the elections and bring some change in the area. Many people come and promise things but never fulfill them. I want to do something for the world now,” she signs off with a smile.
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Photographs: Mohna Singh