The Lift?

It had been raining heavily since four hours, but since we were in the comforts of our training centre, we didn’t realize how the weather situation in the locality was. So much was our ignorance that we decided to stay back and practice for an upcoming test. My friend and I consequently decided to go home at 8 pm. The rain had receded but the effects of the rain were still evident in the form of the traffic jams. There was no sight of a rickshaw. Considering how far away from civilization our training centre is, it was the only way of getting to the nearest station or bus-stop. Since there was none, it only spelt bad news for us. We had only two options, either wait or walk.

In the Mumbai rains, we did not have much of a chance of staying dry with only our umbrella for our protection. So we chose to wait a bit and if nothing would work out in a while, we would walk towards the station. We waited for 15 minutes with not a single rickshaw came our way. We saw a tourist taxi taking a turn down our lane. We looked at each other, both hoping that we get a lift. As if the driver had read our mind, he stopped in front of us and told us he was going towards Ghatkopar (a suburb in Mumbai) and asked us if he could drop us anywhere on the way. It was not where we want to go, but it was a worthwhile compromise.

I had never thought I would take a lift from a stranger, especially after all those stories of them being untrustworthy and bad character. But surprisingly, the thought never crossed my mind. For me he was an angel sent to help us and I could not have refused. With two of our colleagues joining us too I didn’t feel there was any reason to worry. He told us he’ll drop us at a junction near the railway station, which was a 15 minutes walk from that junction. We gleefully accepted.

Somewhere on the way, one of our colleagues got a call. He said to the person on the other end of the line “I am sorry I am late. I was stuck because of the rains. I am in a cab right now. Will see you in 30” Yes, cab he said. He spoke in English and I was just hoping that the driver didn’t understand the language because what he said was outright rude. I wondered what makes us so unappreciative of the good that others do to us. Two minutes later, he dropped us where he had promised. I said thank you, though I didn’t know if it was sorry that I should have said.

Comments

Seeker of Truth said…
When 'cut to the chase' is the order of the day,
There still are some folks who think pleasantries must stay!
Being mocked as cranks,
Missing unsaid thanks,
Some still make it a point to be good anyway!

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