Respond to Sukumar Ray

You finally get into an auto-rickshaw after battling with five other people for it. Holding onto a file full of important documents like your life depends on it and a grocery bag your mom asked for to bring. One hand grips your phone, the other clutches the file and that bag of grocery. The papers inside must stay dry and safe, losing them is not an option for you. To  the sudden boom the sky thundered with the rain. The auto’s side covers aren’t fully down, so cold water is now splashing onto your seat. You shift uncomfortably to the middle seat, trying to protect your bags. One of them has fresh vegetables, and you can already see the tomatoes getting smushed. Finally, you reach your destination. You awkwardly shift your file under one arm and grab your phone to pay with the grocery bag cling on your wrist. But just as you’re about to step out—The driver slams the brakes. Your file slips slightly, a few papers sticking out. Your phone nearly flies out of your hand. You somehow regain balance, but the driver is already turning back and yelling—"150 rupees, madam!" Wait, what?! That’s way more than the usual fare! You start to argue, but chaos unfolds- you panic, trying to argue but then this happened, a speeding bike past splashing the water inside the auto. To the amaze that was not enough for the god that has planned well for the day that while stepping out a random guy bumps into you while rushing past, nearly knocking the file from your hands. The driver taps the meter angrily. Your phone starts ringing —your client or officer is calling, waiting for these documents. The auto behind you knocks on the horn non-stop. The driver reaches himself to snatch the money himself blabbering something constantly. You anxiously try to unzip your bag for cash, but your fingers are wet, and the zip is stuck and it gets difficult to checkout for cash in that piled up grocery bag even with drenched hands. Then the worst happened, a sudden gust of wind blows a few loose papers from your file—straight into a muddy puddle. Your heart stops. The driver groans loudly. The people honking behind start screaming at you. You bend down, bending to grab the wet papers, but just then a stray dog runs over them. You stare in horror as dirty paw prints stamp all over the documents. Your phone is still buzzing. The officer or client is waiting inside. The auto driver is still yelling for payment. The papers are half-ruined. You pull out a soggy 100-rupee note, but it tears in half. The driver rolls his eyes and shouts, "Chhutta do, madam! Chhutta do!" You start digging for coins, but your wet fingers can’t grip them properly. One slips out and rolls under the auto. You awkwardly fumble, looking ridiculous to the auto driver and yearning for not having more than two hands.