Complaint Mary strikes again!

I am really beginning to enjoy SMSing complaints about excess fares by autos as well as calling up to make a complaint. I dunno if I am going to make a difference or if the authorities will take any action but I think I am going to make complaining a hobby like blogging.
Well, Ash had this eye infection as a remnant of his viral fever-gastritis of last week and the discharge and swelling were enough to make V take a work break today and drop us off at the eye clinic, after making a trip to the dermatologist about Ash's atopic eczema.
Unlike in the evenings, there were hardly any patients waiting at the derm's clinic and so we got in as soon as we reached. Ash showed the grand old lady prof (retired from the Medical College) his worst areas of affliction the moment he walked in and saw her. She told us that it was genetic and that we avoid too much temperature fluctuations - which probably explained why he itched more after we switched on the AC at night. She gave us a wide range of lotions and creams and syrups and shampoos and stuff to apply on different occasions but did not prescribe primrose oil supplement a blogger friend had once suggested, saying it was too smelly and revulsive. I dont think she should have worried as Ash loves taking syrups and tablets however bitter they are.
The eye hospital however had a longer queue of patients and so we had to wait a full half hour. V went off, leaving me to manage Ash - which I did with a few candies I had in hand, and a few pinches and chiding. The lady opthalmologist however thought he was a smart and "active" kid, since he cooperated with her in examining his eyes. She prescribed eye drops and an ointment to contain the infection, and warned us to be careful and not infect ourselves.
We stepped out to be greeted by the midday sun in all its power. As I stood wondering whether to take a bus or a share-auto for the 2 km stretch home, an autowallah stopped before me.
"Forty rupees," he demanded. "And that is a very just fare". When the minimum fare for the first 3 km is just Rs.14 - every auto flaunts that mandatory message.
"I am sure it wont go past Rs. 20 if you put the meter," I countered, not sure about the distance home (V told me later it was just 2 kms.)
He took up the challenge and switched on the meter. And it read Rs. 15 when it reached my place.
"Now look at this." I pointed out gleefully.
"Oh, that. My meter needs to be repaired."
"I can pay you Rs.20," I offered magnanimously.
40, he said adamantly.
I told him I would make a complaint. He said scornfuly that he could give me the phone no for making the complaint.
I have the number and I make a complaint a day, I said and started dialling it on my mobile. That got him nervous.
"Is this a punishment for bringing you home? I took pity on you seeing this little boy and brought you home," he changed tack, sensing that I meant business.
I didnt give any indication that I was getting a "Busy, try later" response from the other end. I tried to look as serious and strong as I could.
"You can give me Rs. 10 less," he said.
I did that, railing about the notoreity of Chennai's autofares. But in fact, I was not so unhappy. Though I paid double, Rs. 30 was cheap by the city standards for any ride over a kilometre.
I was still in a huff, so I called up the complaint guys and a man answered. I started my harangue and he said, 'madam, do you have the auto's no.?' I gave him that, and he gave me a no. he said was the "central complaint centre's".
"But do you take any action?" to which he said, yes.
So I dialled the new number, only to hear it ringing. I looked at the clock. It was a little over 1 p.m. - cant expect an Indian government servant to be in his/her seat between 1-2 p.m. Lunch time.
But dear readers, I wont bore you with more tales of my complaints against autowallahs in future.