Teri To * * * * * *

My son was visiting me last week. Appreciating my new car he saw a baton (danda) on the back seat. What is this for, he asked. Well you would have seen that every bus driver and truck driver in India keeps one for self defence, was my explanation. But why on the back seat, he went on to puncture my defences adding ‘by the time you retrieve it the opponent would have given you a few blows.’ I conceded his argument by repositioning the ‘danda’ near my driving seat.

This morning I went to the nearby Manimajra Post Office to send a Speed Post. I chose an empty slot in the Manimajra Motor Market and parked my car well. When I returned after ten minutes I found a white car parked at the back of my car in such a way that I just couldn’t take it out. I asked the mechanics repairing the cars on the right and the left but they all conveyed their ignorance. Then I went to the branch of the Bank nearby as also the Post Office and annouced the number of the car and asked various people if the car belonged to them. But no luck.

I remembered the advice of a very dear friend of mine who had said recently “Chat, Try not to get rattled by small things. Khush Raha Karo. ” So I decided not to spoil me mood and my day. I strolled around in the verandah opposite the parking spot and stopped at a tea shop. I waited patiently for my cuppa, which was surprisingly good. I paid the money and moved back but there was still no sign of the owner of the white car.

I just put my hand on the car and waited. And then after a long, long wait, he arrived. He was just the man I had imagined him to be- hardly forty, heavy with his tummy bulging out in almost an obscene way and munching and chewing something. He ignored me completely, opened his car, reversed it and made space for my car to leave, all the time sitting in his car.

I went to his car and gently tapped at the window and said Sir, would you please come out for a minute?” He feigned as if he had not heard me and started playing with papers in his car. I tapped again and this time more vigorously and repeated, this time more loudly, “Would you please come out of your car for a minute.” By the time a small crowd had gathered hoping to see some ‘tamasha’

And he came out, his face showing apprehension and confusion. I bent fully and touched both his feet and said, “God bless you. May God give you all that you ask for.” Taken aback, he just mumbled that he had asked the mechanic to park his car elsewhere but the mechanic had forgotten. No addmission of mistake, no apology, not even a sorry, nothing. But I was very happy and strangely content.

Thank you Bapu. I have realised that I do not need a ‘danda’ in my car and have thrown it away.

And thank you Dear Friend for your advice not to get rattled by small things.