Customer care — that bane of the service industry usually providing more suffering than succour — may well be a forgotten mantra in corporate circles. For Ranjit Singh though, it is his raison d'être. In his autorickshaw, plying in Mumbai's suburbs, you have at your disposal wifi, multiple pins to charge mobile phones and iPods, a box of candy and gum, a flask of cold water, a flat screen that plays songs, cigarettes, lighter and an ashtray, paper napkins, newspapers and magazines, a notepad and pen, a fire extinguisher as well as toothpicks, earbuds, a dustbin and three mini-fans to tackle the weather. Other than the nicotine product, Singh offers everything free, and has placed the items such that passengers can conveniently access and take whatever they wish to.

"Yeh sab passenger ki suvidha ke liye hai (All these facilities are for passengers)," says the 30-something-year-old in an accent that lays bare his Bihari roots. "Itna entertainment aur enjoyment milta hai public se, ki pata hi nahin chalta ki main bukha hoon yaan pyasa (I enjoy ferrying passengers so much that I don't realise if I'm feeling hungry or thirsty)."

If that sounded a tad filmy, it's perhaps the residual effect of being in the 'industry'. The Samastipur native came to the city of dreams in search of a better livelihood many years ago and, following his elder brother's lead, dabbled in the television industry, working as a costume help and dressman.

A few years ago, he started driving a rental autorickshaw, experiencing first hand the dilemmas of being the driver of a three-wheeler. "I don't like to refuse passengers. But every so often, I'd have to turn them down if my shift time would be coming up, and the auto had to be given to another driver," says Singh. Ever since he bought his autorickshaw nearly two years ago, he has not refused a single passenger.

Mind reader

Singh drives his vehicle, which he calls 'A/C auto dekho magar pyar se', on all seven days of the week, starting from his residence in Juhu at 4pm and driving till early morning. "Isme lights lage hue hai. Raat mein jab chalti hai na, toh sabse alag dikhti hai (There are lights installed inside so the rickshaw looks unique at night)," he enthuses.

The jovial, khaki-clad man's insight into consumer psyche goes beyond the cosmetic. He points out that when passengers are on the phone, it's easier for them to note down an address or a number on paper rather than place the call on hold to make a note on the mobile phone itself. Newspapers, magazines and the television, he says, are for entertainment, while the charging pins are life-savers for passengers returning home late at night.

As for the toothpicks, "yeh to bahut use hoti hai (these are frequently used)", he blurts, by people who flag him after emerging from restaurants, to dig out stuck food particles from their cavities.

Despite his conviction in providing these facilities, getting his vehicle fitted with the racks, stands and fixtures was anything but easy. "Most welders and mechanics refused outright. 'Have you seen any such stand in any other rickshaw? Where will your passengers sit?' would be their refrain," recalls Ranjit, who is short, stocky and wears his mane in a long pigtail on the nape. "I persisted and told them that they can charge me whatever it would cost but to get it done. The fixtures mean a comfortable ride for my passengers."

He credits a mechanic, Mahesh from Malad's Chincholi neighbourhood, for a top rate job of wiring all the electrical elements to the autorickshaw's battery. He estimates spending nearly Rs1 lakh on all the products and accessories, but the bigger task is maintenance. "I spend Rs50 daily to refill the candy box." he says. "I've lost 35 lighters in two years because people often pinch these from the holder. So now I buy cheaper lighters."

No extra charge

The petty thefts don't bog him. If anything, he thrives in the sheer variety of people he gets to meet and interact with daily — students whom he's ferried and waited with outside actor Salman Khan's residence, dozens of regulars such as a family in Versova for whom he is the default driver, numerous TV actors and industry people and BMW and Mercedes drivers who roll down their windows to gesture a thumbs-up. There are also fellow auto drivers — some envious, many others proud — RTO officials who flag him to take photos and jaded passengers who presume that his fare would be higher or his meter tampered with. "I go by the meter and the standard fare applies," says Singh. "It often happens that people who are happy with the ride pay more... anything from Rs10 and 20 extra to even Rs100 over the fare reading."

Call it the effect of serendipity, but the MH-02 DU 3669-registered rickshaw is an instant conversation-starter. "I meet all kinds of people…, they tell me that they've forgotten their worries after sitting with me," he smiles.

"Sometimes they stop me when I'm driving just to click a selfie or shoot a video. At signals, other drivers will gape or greet and ask to shake my hand. I don't feel like a star, but sometimes I do feel shy so I just look straight ahead."

Talks that inspire

Such has been Singh's impact that he was among 16 speakers at the TED-inspired inaugural SEEtalks 2016, hosted by the School of Entrepreneurial Education, at NCPA on June 16. The aspiring actor, who enjoys going for auditions, says the auditorium was packed, and that he was greeted with a standing ovation. "Mera pas solah minute ka time tha, par mera pas bolne ke liye itni sari cheez thi, ki main bahut kuch bol nahin paya (I had 16 minutes to speak, but I had so much to share that I couldn't say it all," says Singh.

But as the saying goes: Actions speak louder than words.