Prose · 03 / 06 · Edition 02

Echoes of the Yellow Cab

Kolkata’s Moving Time Capsule

By Dhriti Agarwal · Oct 2026 · 2 min read

What is that one thing that eternalizes Kolkata? Is it the sweet and soft roshogulla? Or the old and musty trams? These might differentiate Kolkata, but nothing beats the iconic yellow taxi roaming the roads of Kolkata. You see, those trams are now just collecting dust, while the roshogullas are canned and transported throughout the world, but those yellow taxis are still roaming the roads of Kolkata, with their worn-out seats, with their stick shifts, and with their broken fare meters. The eternal taxis still ride down our roads, still getting stopped by that schoolgirl and her mother, by that tired grandmother who just came from the mandir, and by that tired employee who is sick of his 9-to-5 job. Those drivers are still hearing the mother scolding her kid for not eating her tiffin or that employee calling his mom or that teen who is on the phone with her best friend. The driver is still aware of those secrets spilt and of all those tears shed, yet the only person oblivious is us. While we are fighting over the fare in front of our building, hurrying to show our dads our shopping bags, there is a little girl at home waiting to see hers. We fail to see his tired eyes or how he roams the streets in his only source of income searching to take someone home just so that he can bring food into his.

And somehow these eternal taxis are always there when you don’t need them and never when in dire need of, with their fake ‘NO REFUSALS’ and 'AC CAB,' rolling windows, and the iconic yellow, brightening the roads amidst their blacks and greys...waiting to be seen…still diving through our roads and leaving a burst of nostalgia behind.