``I enjoy driving my taxi. All I need is a little music on the tape recorder and I can cruise along till I reach my destination,'' he says. Indeed, music has been Raikwar's driving passion from his early days. All he had when he ran away from his home in Jhansi to become a singer was hope in his heart and Rs. 10 in his pocket. ``I was a good singer and played the bulbultarang well. I had dreams of making it big, so along with a few friends, I boarded a train to Mumbai''.

That fate had other plans in store for him became apparent when Raikwar and his friends were caught for ticketless travel in Khandwa. With money running low, Raikwar soon had to fend for himself and drifted from being a dish-washer in a theatre canteen, a tonga driver, and when he finally touched Mumbai, a car-washer. Raikwar came to Pune in search of a job, armed with his driving skills and some tempo-repairing tips that he picked up at a mechanic's workshop.

``I became a member of the Pune-Mumbai Taxi Consumer's Society in 1970 and would get 20 per cent of the taxi owner's commission,'' he says. Life on the road has had its ups and downs. ``It took time for me to get accustomed to the highway traffic and for my eyes to adjust to the blinding lights of other vehicles. To be an able driver, you need to have good road judgement, which only comes with practice''.

Gregarious by nature, Raikwar feels that a lot of the four-hour journeys depend on the kind of passengers he gets. ``I have come across a variety of people. Some passengers are taciturn and prefer to keep to themselves, others are not. Passengers are my first priority and I believe in being nice to all of them. At times, when the taxi breaks down in the middle of a journey, I ensure that the passenger can get another taxi or some other means of transport''.

A seasoned taxi driver with his own taxi today, Raikwar finds that the traffic condition has become worse in recent years. ``People drive so rashly these days, changing lanes and overtaking without a second thought. When I drive slowly but carefully I have to face insults like being called `gaon ka paavtya' from these rash drivers. I feel sad but what can I do?'' he says with a shrug. Raikwar himself has been a victim of rash driving. ``Some seven years ago, as I was driving back to Pune with two ladies and a child in the passenger seat, a lorry tried to overtake my taxi even as a jeep was approaching from the opposite direction. I swerved off the road and hit a tree. I remember waking up in Sassoon General Hospital with bandages. My first thought was of the little baby and my passengers, all of whom were luckily safe,'' he says.

Another incident Raikwar remembers with pride is when a passenger left his expensive coat behind in the taxi. ``I searched his pockets but could find no name or address mentioned anywhere. Six months later, I met the man when he came looking for his coat at the Pune-Mumbai taxi stand near the Pune Railway Station. He was so happy when I took his address and delivered the coat to him that he gave me a certificate of honesty,'' he remembers.

The rising number of private taxis and buses plying between the two cities has left taxi drivers like Raikwar with more time on their hands than they would like. ``As a licensed Mumbai-Pune taxi driver, I have to await my turn for a Pune-bound taxi to return before I start my journey to Mumbai. Earlier, I used to undertake the journey four or five times a week. Now I make it two or three times a week and spend the rest of the time playing cards with fellow taxi drivers,'' he says.

While Raikwar's dream of getting to Bollywood may not have succeeded, his son, who penned the hit song Aati kya Khandala, is making it to the big league. Will Raikwar ever give up being a taxi driver? ``I can't think of going back now. I like my independent life on the road''.