Trapped in a Jeep

[NaNoWriMo Day 2]

[Warning: This is poorly written and completely unedited. I just want to get a novel written soon.]

Raul was trapped in an old jeep with thirteen strangers, two of whom were toddlers in sour moods. The conductor claimed that the clanking noise coming from underneath wasn't an issue, but what it actually was was incomprehensible to Raul.

"Bhai, if it's making noise, it means something that should not be moving is moving and hitting against the engine. If we stop, I can look at it and see what's up," Raul said, looking at the conductor who couldn't have been more than seventeen.

"No, no, no, don't need to. We have already shown it to the mechanic in the garage, and he said that some part of the differential was not smooth, so it was rubbing and making the noise. Once we keep driving, the noise will go down. It's already gotten much quieter in the last two weeks since we brought it back from the garage," the conductor said, without looking at Raul.

"Yes, that's right. Right when we got it back, you couldn't hear anyone talk at all. Now it's become a lot better, we don't even notice it is there. Since you're new to it, you can hear it, but in a couple of hours you will just ignore it," the driver said. He slid his hand to the volume knob, and turned on the volume.

"Oh, if the mechanic says so, then it must be fine. I've worked with smaller cars too, so I have an idea of what to do in case a cars breaks down, so we have a backup if something happens, " Raul said, giving up.

"It's not worthy of you to be worrying about such things! You are our Mukhiya's guest, and maybe someday you will become the Prime Minister! We couldn't let our future chief be our mechanic, hahah. We will take care of the jeep sir, you just relax and enjoy the scenery," the driver said, overtaking a tractor on a curve.

"Haha, your mukhiya likes to make people laugh. I'm a bureaucrat, not a political leader. He is a political leader, he knows everyone, and knows what everyone wants, and he can arrange things to make people happy. He is what a leader looks like. If someone like me were to be the Prime Minister, where would our country be. All our roads would be like this, hahaha," said Raul, just as the vehicle jumped out of a large ditch.

"He is an old kind of leader. He likes to rule. He has done us well, and we respect him. But we have seen people like him go to the upper level posts, and then inflate like a balloon in a few months. They remember us once in five years, but these days, they just pay the radios and internet, and don't even come here in that time. People like you should get a chance, you have seen the world. And you know how to fix a car despite being a high-level person, if you can fix a car, you might fix a country too who knows," the driver said, spitting through his window, and taking a swig of water from the bottle by his side. The music volume had been lowered.

"I've eaten many years too, I'm not young. But if fixing cars made you able to fix countries, the mechanic who told you this noise was as it was supposed to be would be a minister, definitely," Raul said. The toddler in the seat accross had started crying in hiccups. His mother was giving him strong pats on his back, against the rhythm of the cry. The crying subsided.

"People like that reaching high up is the problem! We had a cobbler in our village, when I was young we used to get our shoes made from him and tease him. And then the communists came and everyone went everywhere and he became a minister. They asked him on kantipur, in that show where the public can ask them question, this college girl asked him if he could count his achievements. He said there were so many, he couldn't say it. He couldn't say even one thing that he had done as a minister in three years! They don't go up there to make the country, it's just to fill their stomachs. And their hunger never subsides. We've seen it all. Instead of that, at least well-educated, honest-looking people should get a good chance, I think. They say you have to have seen poverty to be a minister, but we have seen all the ministers, what have they done for us? They think we don't see anything," the crying toddler's mother said.

"Right. And where is your area?" Raul asked.

"Dolakha district, but Chitwan is my residence now. I keep going to Kathmandu because of work matter, but my registration is still in Dolakha. I took three days holiday to go vote last time, " she said.

"He must be from the other party, so you're angry at him. They're probably saying the same things about your party people too," I said, with a teasing smile.

She smiled back. "No, no, it's not like that. I vote for the party only because there is no one good in the ballot. Now, if you're going to have thieves robbing you anyway, might as well be your thief so at least you get something later," she said. "If a good honest person comes, they will get my vote. But good people don't want to get into politics at all, or they are chased away. And people like you, the smart ones are all abroad or doctor or engineers, so we are left with those who failed the SLC because they were teasing girls and smoking gaanja during their class who run for them and win them. That's our choice, and we have to choose one anyway," she said. Her child now seemed sound asleep.

"So our sister's a congressi then, we are to understand," said a man from the far end of the jeep. Raul looked at the new interlocutor. He had a thin, wrinkled face, thick framed glasses, and was wearing a Dhaka topi.

"Congress is what I have to say, yes, Congress, but I'm not a party worker or anything like that. If I had to say, I would vote any good candidate who was not a communist," she said, with a smile.

Raul looked around, and saw everyone in the back of the jeep was smiling now.