BKC is where Mumbai does business, and where a growing number of its families live: banks, the National Stock Exchange, consulates, the Jio World Centre — and one-way roads that punish a driver who guesses the gate.
Every building in BKC has a gate for cars and a gate for people, often on different roads. The sarathi knows which, and is at the right one.
The US Consulate General is in BKC, and it admits no bags or electronics. The sarathi keeps yours in the car, locked, until you are out — a consulate appointment.
The car waits by the hour, the bag inside, and is at the door of the next building when you are — working on the way.
Terminal 2 is close by road; the house still plans the hour, because the BKC connector at six in the evening is its own weather.
The house never names who it collects, or from which building, here or anywhere else. Your gate, your tower and your floor are written once, kept in your room, and read only by your sarathi.
Inside every written figure: the car, your sarathi, fuel, every toll, parking at both ends and GST. Nothing is added on the day, and no meter runs.
Reserve from BKCYour gate and floor, written once.