True
story (One Must read)
Extraordinary
True Stories About Ordinary People
Sudha
Murty, chairperson, Infosys Foundation and author, is known for her ability to
glean interesting stories from the lives of ordinary people and weave these
narratives into a unique blend of anecdote and fable.
Her
latest collection of stories, 'The Day I Stopped Drinking Milk', features a
fascinating cast of characters, each of whom made an indelible impression on
the author. Extracted here is a nugget from “Bombay to Bangalore”, one of the
most heart-warming stories in this collection:
It
was the beginning of summer. I was boarding Udyan Express at Gulbarga railway
station. My destination was Bangalore. As I boarded the train, I saw that the
second-class reserved compartment was jam-packed with people. I sat down and
was pushed to the corner of the berth. Though it was meant for three people,
there were already six of us sitting on it...
The
ticket collector came in and started checking people's tickets and
reservations. Suddenly, he looked in my direction and asked, 'What about your
ticket?' 'I have already shown my ticket to you,' I said.
'Not
you, madam, the girl hiding below your berth. Hey, come out, where is your
ticket?' I realized that someone was sitting below my berth. When the collector
yelled at her, the girl came out of hiding.
She
was thin, dark, scared and looked like she had been crying profusely. She must
have been about thirteen or fourteen years old. She had uncombed hair and was
dressed in a torn skirt and blouse. She was trembling and folded both her
hands. The collector started forcibly pulling her out from the compartment.
Suddenly, I had a strange feeling. I stood up and called out to the collector.
'Sir, I will pay for her ticket,' I said.
Then
he looked at me and said, 'Madam, if you give her ten rupees, she will be much
happier with that than with the ticket.'
I
did not listen to him. I told the collector to give me a ticket to the last
destination, Bangalore, so that the girl could get down wherever she wanted.
Slowly,
she started talking. She told me that her name was Chitra. She lived in a
village near Bidar. Her father was a coolie and she had lost her mother at
birth. Her father had remarried and had two sons with her stepmother. But a few
months ago, her father had died. Her stepmother started beating her often and
did not give her food. She was tired of that life. She did not have anybody to
support her so she left home in search of something better.
By
this time, the train had reached Bangalore. I said goodbye to Chitra and got
down from the train. My driver came and picked up my bags. I felt someone
watching me. When I turned back, Chitra was standing there and looking at me
with sad eyes. But there was nothing more that I could do. I had paid her
ticket out of compassion but I had never thought that she was going to be my
responsibility!...
I
told her to get into my car. My driver looked at the girl curiously. I told him
to take us to my friend Ram's place. Ram ran separate shelter homes for boys
and girls. We at the Infosys Foundation supported him financially. I thought
Chitra could stay there for some time and we could talk about her future after
I came back from my tours.
I
was not sure if Chitra would even be there. But to my surprise, I saw Chitra
looking much happier than before. Ram suggested that Chitra could go to a high
school nearby. I immediately agreed and said that I would sponsor her expenses
as long as she continued to study. I left the shelter knowing that Chitra had
found a home and a new direction in her life.
I
got busier and my visits to the shelter reduced to once a year. But I always
enquired about Chitra's well-being over the phone. I knew that she was studying
well and that her progress was good. I offered to sponsor her college studies
if she wanted to continue studying. But she said, 'No, Akka. I have talked to
my friends and made up my mind. I would like to do my diploma in computer
science so that I can immediately get a job after three years.' She wanted to
become economically independent as soon as possible. Chitra obtained her
diploma with flying colours. She also got a job in a software company as an
assistant testing engineer. When she got her first salary, she came to my
office with a sari and a box of sweets.
One
day, when I was in Delhi, I got a call from Chitra. She was very happy. 'Akka,
my company is sending me to USA! I wanted to meet you and take your blessings
but you are not here in Bangalore.'.
Years
passed. Occasionally, I received an e-mail from Chitra. She was doing very well
in her career. She was posted across several cities in USA and was enjoying
life. I silently prayed that she should always be happy wherever she was.
Years
later, I was invited to deliver a lecture in San Francisco for Kannada Koota,
an organization where families who speak Kannada meet and organize events. The
lecture was in a convention hall of a hotel and I decided to stay at the same
hotel. After the lecture, I was planning to leave for the airport. When I
checked out of the hotel room and went to the reception counter to pay the
bill, the receptionist said, 'Ma'am, you don't need to pay us anything. The
lady over there has already settled your bill. She must know you pretty well.'
I turned around and found Chitra there.
She
was standing with a young white man and wore a beautiful sari. She was looking
very pretty with short hair. Her dark eyes were beaming with happiness and
pride. As soon as she saw me, she gave me a brilliant smile, hugged me and
touched my feet. I was overwhelmed with joy and did not know what to say. I was
very happy to see the way things had turned out for Chitra. But I came back to
my original question. 'Chitra, why did you pay my hotel bill? That is not
right.' suddenly sobbing, she hugged me and said, 'Because you paid for my
ticket from Bombay to Bangalore!'
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