A late-night cab ride in Kolkata has unexpectedly become a national conversation starter, offering a glimmer of hope while starkly highlighting the grim everyday reality of women's safety in India. The story revolves around a simple act of duty by a cab driver, which, in today's climate, felt nothing short of heroic.
The Viral Night: Duty Over Drama
The incident occurred recently in Kolkata when cab driver Munna Ajij Mollick, during his nightly rounds, picked up a teenage girl who was heavily intoxicated. Faced with the responsibility of ensuring the safety of a vulnerable passenger, Mollick did something prudent: he switched on his car's dashcam. What it recorded was not a horror story, but a surprisingly heartwarming exchange.
The footage, which later went viral, shows the girl, disoriented and anxious, tapping the driver on the shoulder and saying, "Uncle, I am so drunk. Can you help me with that?" Mollick's response was calm and paternal: "I know you are drunk, beta… please, please, please keep quiet, keep quiet. I will take you home." The conversation evolved into a banter reminiscent of siblings, with Mollick playfully chiding her as a "spoilt brat" while firmly reassuring her and her worried mother on the phone that she would be delivered home safely.
A Stark Contrast to a Disturbing Norm
The overwhelming public reaction to Mollick's act underscores a painful truth. In a society where headlines are routinely dominated by violence against women, a story with a safe ending feels like an anomaly. The article, originally published on January 6, 2026, juxtaposes this Kolkata incident with chilling events from around the same period.
It references a woman raped in Udaipur while returning from an office party, even in the presence of a female colleague. It mentions another in Faridabad raped by men who offered her a ride after a fight with her mother. And it recalls the horrific rape and murder of a medical student in Kolkata herself just a year prior, whose "fault" was napping after a long shift. Against this backdrop, a cab driver simply doing his job—emphasized by Mollick's own words, "It's my job. I will drop you home"—becomes an act worthy of national praise and "hero worship."
Raising the Bar: When Basic Duty Becomes Heroic
The viral moment forces a critical introspection: Why is our default imagination for a scenario involving a vulnerable woman and a male stranger so predictably horrific? The piece argues that feeling safe should not be a luxury or a "full-time job" for women, a sentiment echoed after the 2012 Delhi rape-murder case.
Mollick, a 31-year-old teaching aspirant, has taken his sudden fame in stride. In his interaction with The Indian Express, he downplayed the heroics, stating, "The woman wasn't fully conscious. So, I just had to tolerate her tantrums and ensure her safety, which I did. That's my duty." Perhaps the most telling perspective came from his mother, who questioned the frenzy, asking why people were praising him for what was simply expected.
This simple reaction points to the core of the issue. The story concludes that the real solution may lie in "raising our boys right," in normalizing respect and duty over violence and entitlement. The piece is a tribute to Munna Ajij Mollick, his mother, and the hope that every woman in a vulnerable situation finds the same safety. It is a call to reshape our society's default setting from fear to trust, one responsible act at a time.
