The Luxury Upgrade

After a difficult week, Ashwin decided that Friday’s commute should contain compensation. His manager had moved a deadline, his lunch had leaked, and a presentation had been described as promising in a tone that meant it would require extensive revision.

He booked a premium cab.

The car arrived clean and comfortable. The driver, Nazeer, greeted him politely. Ashwin settled into the back seat, fastened his seat belt, and discovered a bottle of water placed neatly beside him. There was space for his bag and no mysterious rattle from the door.

Already, the week looked more manageable.

“Comfortable?” Nazeer asked.

“Very.”

They joined Outer Ring Road traffic. Within minutes, the car stopped beside an ordinary hatchback containing a man in office clothes and a child carefully protecting a school craft project. The project appeared to be a volcano. It had more visible movement potential than either car.

Ashwin leaned back and waited for his upgrade to produce a broader effect.

It did not.

The seat was excellent. The air-conditioning was pleasant. The queue remained fully committed to equal treatment.

His friend Nitin called. Ashwin answered as a passenger and kept his voice low.

“On the way?” Nitin asked.

“Yes. Premium cab today.”

“Nice. Faster?”

Ashwin looked at the hatchback. The child adjusted the volcano. Its driver rubbed his forehead.

“Different seating arrangement,” Ashwin said.

Nitin laughed. “Enjoy the water.”

Ashwin opened the bottle with unnecessary ceremony. If comfort was the available benefit, he intended to experience it properly.

At the next slow stretch, Nazeer offered to adjust the temperature. Ashwin declined. He then asked whether another route might help. Nazeer explained the available options calmly while safely stopped. None promised a miracle. Ashwin chose to remain on the agreed route rather than turning his disappointment into a demand for reckless creativity.

Outside, someone honked repeatedly. Nothing changed. Inside, the quiet felt more valuable by comparison. Ashwin realised that he had purchased a gentler place to wait, not the right to make other people disappear.

This was a useful distinction, though less exciting than the one he had imagined when booking.

The hatchback appeared again at another signal. The child now held the volcano upright with both hands. Ashwin smiled through the window. The child gave a serious nod, apparently acknowledging another person who understood transport risk.

He found himself rooting for the volcano. The adult’s expression had softened too. For a few minutes, the commute involved a small shared hope rather than a competition over who could move half a vehicle length first.

Nitin sent a message asking whether the luxury package included arrival. Ashwin replied that arrival remained subject to general road conditions. He added a photograph of the water bottle, taken from the stationary passenger seat, and received three laughing emojis.

Before their routes separated, the child in the hatchback held the volcano up just enough for Ashwin to see it clearly. He gave a small thumbs-up from his seat. The child grinned. It was the most successful presentation Ashwin had attended all week.

At home, Nazeer stopped in the designated area and helped ensure Ashwin had his bag before leaving. Ashwin thanked him sincerely. The ride had been slow, but the driver had been calm, considerate, and clear. That deserved recognition without requiring a traffic miracle.

Upstairs, his wife asked whether the expensive ride had been worth it.

Ashwin thought about the quiet, the comfortable seat, and the absence of any pressure to perform anger.

“Yes,” he said. “But I have revised the benefits document.”

She looked at the bottle still in his hand.

“Premium souvenir?”

He placed it carefully on the table.

“Part of the experience.”

Read when you’re a passenger or safely off the road. Never while driving.