The Taxi

In this country which God forsake after endowing it with the maximum natural beauty, I hired a taxi today. Balancing a near-torn polythene bag of heavy diaries in one hand, and another equally laden carry bag of calenders, I asked the driver if he was ready to go to the destination. He nodded. With the load in my hand, I tried to open the door. The diary-bag nearly gave way. Helplessly, I clutched it from the top, along with my elbow giving it support from below. With the other hand, my fingers clasped for the latch of the door, but missed them, as the bulky other carry bag came in way. All this while, as I did the aforementioned pantemomime, the driver sat on with a blank, dumb expression; till the time, I nearly screamed out, "Can't you help?" Only then did he move from his zen-like stupor.