Ever since I came over to Bangalore some ten months back to take up the new job, I haven't been able to visit my parents. Work has kept me really busy. My parents were feeling very troubled as to whether their only son was happy in his new dwelling or not. They were eager to see through their own eyeshow the city was treating me, especially Maa. She was concerned about my food and my health more than anything else. I would often have a hard time in convincing her about the quality of the hotel food that the caterer delivers to me, during our telephone chats. She always had the same questions to ask - whether their food tasted good enough and whether they prepared the meals in hygenic conditions. And then she would raise the marriage topic, how my life would change for the better and I wouldn't have to suffer eating from outside if I brought a wife into my life while I would try hard to evade the topic. Our arguments would continue until she would finally end the call.
But then her worst fears came true when I fell ill with severe food poisoning after eating the dhaba's food. My parents got worried when they came to learn about my illness, as there was no one to look after me. So both Maa and Baba set out for Bangalore immediately, the next morning. I have to admit that news about their scheduled arrival did bring some succour to my heart as ever since I got bed-ridden with my illness, I was not only feeling very lonely but actually was also finding it difficult to take care of myself, although some friends used to visit me every now and then. But I was also worried about my parents travelling so far away. They hadn't travelled long distances for quite some years owing to their knee problems and they were coming to Bangalore for the first time.
Thankfully their train wasn't late by much as Baba called me up to inform me. I insisted on going to the station to bring them home but they outrightly turned me down, saying that they could hire a taxi and that I need not worry. After an hour or so, I heard my door bell ring and as I opened the door, they were there before me, safe and sound. My sickness suddenly vanished away the moment I hugged them. We were meeting after ten months and so we had a lot to say to each other. But they were dead tired too after the two day long train journey. So while Baba went to take a shower, Maa immediately got busy in preparing a meal for all of us. None of us had realised until then that they had absent-mindedly left one of their suitcases in the taxi. It was only after Baba came out of the bathroom and started looking for that suitcase to take out his clothes did we realise that it had got left behind in the cab. Baba was distraught because along with the clothes, it also contained our ancestral property papers that he brought along.
Just then the door bell rang once again. When I opened it, I found a smiling man standing before me who was holding the suitcase.
"Uncle, you had left your suitcase by mistake and I only saw it when I opened the dicky of my cab. Though I remembered that i had dropped you off at this apartment but I had no idea about your flat number. Luckily I also found the small piece of paper on the back seat, the one that you were holding and I found your address written on it", said the cab driver.
My parents felt really grateful to him and so was I. We tried to persuade him to accept some cash as the fare for his trip that he took the second time around but he politely refused, saying that helping others is priceless and that he was happy that the luggage finally found its rightful owner.
This simple incident goes on to show that there are still decent men living in this world, who are so honest that they go out of their way to doggedly track down the owner of a misplaced article and hand it over to him.
Image used - www.smartambala.com
(This has been written for "Look up story" for Housing.com. Visit their website www.housing.com to know more about them)
0 comments:
Post a Comment