Dear
Stranger,
Sometimes it
just helps to know that there is someone out there who cares; even though it is
a total stranger. Like yourself.
I was having
difficulty in explaining to the man at the ticket counter where I wanted to go.
I did not speak the local language, and my gestures and sign language only further
exasperated the ticket guy. The crowd behind me was getting impatient and
fidgety. And then the ticket guy lost it. He let loose a string of anger ridden
words in a language that I don’t understand; I was close to tears. And then you
stepped in. You had been privy to the futile conversation that I was having
with him. You were standing behind me in the queue and came to my aid. Your
voice was firm and determined and the guy simmered down. I was having trouble
holding back my tears. You turned to me, touched my arm and smiled, asked if I
wanted some water. I smiled weakly, and nodded yes. You gave me your bottle and
then began explaining the situation I had gotten myself into.
As someone
who was new to the city, I now think in retrospect that I should have done my
homework better before embarking on the journey. You told me that all the buses
were pre-booked because it was an extended weekend, and everyone wanted their
share of leisure and bliss. The only option left was the bus which left at
eight in the evening. I remember nodding my head to everything that you said,
while silently admonishing myself and thinking that it was a vain attempt on my
part to try and continue with the trip. Eight o’ clock was still three hours
away and I was stuck in the middle of a hostile crowd, with a rucksack on my
back, which sonorously screamed the word – ALIEN.
With a
legion of convoluted thoughts running around in my head, I suddenly realized
that you had stopped talking and were now scrutinizing my eyes intently. As I
looked up, you gave me big, warm, encouraging smile; I felt a little better. It
assured me, gave me fortitude. When I told you where I was planning to go, you
grinned at me and disclosed that we shared the same destination; from then
onwards you took me under your wing. You coaxed and cajoled and then bargained
with the man at the ticket counter and successfully obtained two tickets. You
helped me with my luggage in the overhead cabin and suggested that I take the
window seat. With a wink you added, “Just in case you feel sick going up the
mountains.” After settling down beside me, you didn’t burst into a rambling conversation,
probably because you gauged my reticent side. You made minor observations from
time to time; you lamented how I won’t be able to see the grand view of the
valley since it was dark outside. You put me at ease, being perfectly conscious
of the fact that I was traveling alone and would reach in the middle of the
night to a place where I had never set foot before.
When we
stopped midway for a fifteen minute break, you insisted on buying me coffee. Even
though I am not a caffeine person, I savored the coffee because it was a wet,
chilly night. I finally cracked my shell and told you a little about myself. I
told you that I was a modern day drifter; yes, I do have a job, but I usually
have the convenience of working from home. That allowed me frequent and regular
breaks, so that I could pursue my passion of travel. I told you that I was
visiting a few friends who had just moved there and knowing about my zealous
enthusiasm of travel, they had invited me to stay with them. I think I dozed
off for a few minutes, but I could sense your watchful gaze over me, even in my
slumber. I felt your hand gently shaking my shoulder, urging me to wake up as
we neared our stop. It was a quarter past twelve at night when we got off and
there weren’t a lot many people at the bus station. You helped me with my
luggage, taking it out gently, as if it was a baby carrycot. I took out my
phone to call my friend, but my phone was dead. You readily offered me yours,
but before I could make the call, I heard my name. I turned around to see my
friend walking towards me. I turned back, gave your phone back and smiled. You
smiled back and we held our gaze for a few seconds. You extended your hand and
I shook it. You wished me a pleasant stay and walked off, perhaps forever out
of my life into the darkness.
I don’t know
your name, we hadn’t exchanged names. Or numbers. Or addresses. The chances of
us meeting again is extremely remote and improbable; we live in an insomniac and
athletic world, where a multitude of people like us move every single day, with
their bags, and larger than life dreams. But I want you know that I will be
eternally grateful to you. Sometimes all it needs is the will to care, the rest
just works its way. The possibilities are infinite and I believe in our future,
our world, the people, us, you and me, I believe in them all. I end by saying a simple thank you.
Love,
The Stranger
You Saved at the Ticket Counter
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