How do we measure someone’s kindness?

 How do we measure someone’s kindness?

Here  are three incidents involving people whose faces I don’t remember.  Even if  I met them again by chance, I am unsure if I would recognize them, yet their presence in my life is remarkably significant. 

THE ONE WITH THE BIKE ACCIDENT

 When I was a student at Presidency college, I used to take either 27H or 40A to reach Annasquare, via Triplicane bookshop lane. Everytime I go across that area, the city dwellers on either side of the road will be proceeding with their routine. Around  7.30am, the bus will cross the lane, I wouldn’t have had breakfast, the smell of dried fish will make  me unpleasant, I will be stern and will not turn on either side, wait for the bus to pass that area. 

One day, after paying PhD enrolment  fees at Madras University, I rode back to my home crossing that lane, there was a lorry in some distance and strangely a hanging wire fell from the post on a moving loaded lorry, I stopped my bike as the lorry moved forward, the extension of the wire fell on my helmet, as the lorry moved further, the wire dragged me, from the helmet the wire fell on my neck, as the lorry attempted to take a U turn, there was friction and there was zero degree burn on my neck and I fell down from the bike.

 People around the place ran towards me, they lifted me up immediately, I am immensely grateful for the help they did that evening. It was a busy beach road, had they not rescued me instantly,  some fleeting vehicle would have definitely hit me.

 The ladies and men surrounded me, a lady  applied coconut oil on my skin with delicate care, I flinched in pain, she cajoled and convinced me.  Another guy  bought a Glucon D  drink in jiffy  and a lady made me sip it in drops, they were all so concerned. 

They called my sir, spoke to him and told him to come and pick me up. the bike, keys, bag, helmet everything was somewhere around with them, I don't even know where  exactly it was. When sir came, they were like, let’s call an ambulance and sir refused with the intention of taking me to a private clinic. They rightfully told him to take proper care of me. Next day,  my friends went to retrieve the bike, they spoke over phone and ensured my safety and identity.

I am humbled at the enormity of their kindness. The unpleasant smell didn't matter to me from then. I visit them quite often, after recovery. I was ashamed of my bigotry. 

The sad part was, none of the clinics gave us first aid, they thought it was a suicide attempt and wanted police interference. All the reputed private hospitals wanted to file a case before offering first aid. Hours later my friend Bhuna  took me to a Pediatrician, who gave me the injection and the following day I was treated by my family doctor.  

THE ONE AT THE HOSPITAL

With a lot of apprehension, I am writing this. I am unsure if I have to record it. But the person involved deserves a mention. 

Amma became really heavy after she was declared lifeless. Me and appa were in the hospital, I had no idea about who did what there. we were struggling to move amma, I saw a guy near by approaching us to help, his wife was hesitant  and stopped him, he was reluctant.  In a few minutes he came and lifted her at ease, then hospital people came and took over. I remember joining my hands together, as a sign of gratitude. Then the scene changed and a lot more things happened.

 I don't know what changed his mind to come forward to help us, being numb to his wife’s stare. Maybe the wife thought coming near us could cause him  harm. But he came forward, in a matter of a few seconds. Despite  trying hard, I am not able to trace the face of the person to whom I am deeply indebted. 

That  night could have easily been yet another night for us,  like  every other person in the universe, But it wasn't. It  toppled our lives upside down. 

THE ONE IN THE TRAIN

 On a rainy night, me and appa went on a train to Karaikudi, the tickets were in the waiting list. The TTR told us, if we could procure some space to sit, then we are good to commute. The train was already crowded, I was hoping for some space to squeeze my dad in. The 8 hour journey would be a nightmare if we don’t find some space to at least sit. We roamed from compartments to compartments. People seeing us enlarged their occupancy of the seat and they showed visible signs of annoyance and unpleasantness seeing us in the probable proximity of invading their space.

A guy who was sleeping in the side upper berth of one such compartment called appa “Perivyarae, inga ukkaranga” (elderly one, sit here). In the dim light, I couldn’t even see his face. But my heart brimmed with joy and gratitude and gave me strength to accommodate myself in the train.

The above three incidents involved people with whom I had no acquaintance nor expectations, but their presence in respective circumstances were God-like and I am forever indebted to them. 

 As we age and mature, we think we are self-sufficient, but in reality the presence and contribution of others in unexpected ways keep us going.