The rain had just begun. He picked up his pace. He was hoping to catch one of the quicker buses to his destination. Out of the corner of his eye, and through the veil of his perception he saw another man struggling. The rain had picked up too. He stopped to observe this individual. Cars zipped past him. Was he in a state of apprehension?

“Excuse me, can I help you.”

“(Hesitantly) – Ah yes, um, actually I need to cross the road, but you will get wet in the rain.”

“It doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

“(Gratefuly) – Thank you so much. So, where are you going?”

“I am going that way.”

“Then we are going in the opposite direction. This is out of the way for you.”

“Not at all, I will catch a bus from there.”

“So, where do you live?”

“Somewhere around this region. 7-8 kilometers from here. Do you want to take the escalator or the ramp?”

“The escalator will do, I think.”

During their conversation, the two negotiated NUMEROUS sidewalk ledges (climbing up and down), cars and awkwardly placed sign/advertisement boards to make their way to the foot-over bridge. Just as the relevance of the questions picked up, the instructions and cautions to avoid obstacles came thick and fast. They picked up their pace. One in the lead, with the other almost struggling to keep up. One focussed on getting to the destination, the other preoccupied. Since, they were concentrating on their steps, the questions faded. They reached the foot of the escalator.

“We are at the escalator.”

“(Attentively) Ok.”

“Take your step now. Bye.”

I was too caught up in the crossfire of emotions going through my head. I felt discomfort, guilt, contentment, confusion – all at the same time. As I saw him ascend, his face contorted with an impulse of fear. He looked deserted. I realized, I had helped him onto the escalator, but how would he get off? A heavy rush came between us and I couldn’t get onto the steps, leave aside forcing my way through the crowd. I couldn’t see him. I just prayed he would be alright.
He did not know he had to turn right after getting off the moving stairs. He walked straight. Slowly, with caution. I realized he was making his way back down to the side where he started from.

My work was far from over. I scurried towards the ramp, ran up to the second level where he had stopped. He realized he was going the wrong way. He turned slowly. I quickly rejoined him.

“Sorry for leaving you like that, I got a little confused.”

“(Relieved) Its alright. So where are you going? Do you study somewhere here?”

“I am going to my college. It is a considerable distance from here.”

“(Hopefully) – Do you travel everyday?”

“Yes, but the time varies.”

“(Slightly dejected) – You must be running late?”

“Nah, I have plenty of time. I’ll get you to the other side first.”

We crossed sides, and got off the correct ramp. I was probably walking too fast for his comfort. He never complained. He was grateful. We reached the other side. I asked a sensible looking fellow to help the man onto a suitable bus. I bid him farewell. He thanked me, he said goodbye. I walked away.

I realized, I had not handled the situation in the best possible way, but my intentions were good. I was awed by the situation. I was trying to be too nice, too gracious almost to the extent of showing pity for this stranger. In retrospect, I came to the understanding that while asking me all those questions he was hoping our travel timings or route would match. My reading of the situation could be absolutely wrong. Maybe he was simply being nice.

I and many I know, complain about traveling long distances. We complain about the lack of a routine, of comfortable transportation and so much more.

The man I helped today had impaired vision.

I wonder how he feels each day. We should be grateful for the blessings we have and enjoy. I was humbled today. I deserve no praise, no credit for what I did. In reality, I am guilty for not having done something like this earlier in my life. The state is guilty for turning a blind eye towards its responsibilities. Society is guilty. I wonder how he travels on days when fools don’t ‘help’ him cross the road.

What kind of world do we live in? We all have our own destiny, they say ..