Having spent my schooling away from home, I have almost become a stranger in my home town. Just like the eagles from the plains visit my place of birth in the summers, or otherwise, hovering in the skies before retreating back, I too go there once in a while, spend sometime with my folks and retreat back to the comfort of my adopted city. Recently, on one such trip, I arrived home prepared for what was to be a longer vacation. I got down at the last bus stop and was to take another bus to reach my locality. Interestingly, the unfamiliarity with the place that I conveyed through my urban looks and attire immediately made me the focus of attention. Just about every eye was targeting the stranger who had just arrived in the locality. Though I felt a trifle uneasy, I was lost in my own thoughts of finding the bus stop before sunset.

Soon I reached a deserted bus stand only to be informed by a middle aged bus conductor that the boarding place for the bus to my place was a little distant. “This is no longer the stage,” he advised. Taking directions from him, I thanked him profusely but before I could set off, he called me back. Since I was en route to the bus stage, would it be kind of me to help the tribal lady standing nearby heading in the same direction. I had a look at the lady. She was a short lady of a dark complexion with curly hair that touched her shoulders. She had pierced her ears leaving a loop, so long and wide enough that four carom coins could comfortably fit. Her lips and teeth bore red stain marks, the result of the pan she was chewing. For clothing, she had a dreary white cloth wrapped around her shoulders that reached a little below the knees. Walking barefoot, she had a red waist band which had a small pouch that served a dual purpose – carry case for the betel leaves and money.

It was time to leave. I nodded at the conductor and set off with the lady in tow. As we marched together along the footpath, we made no effort to speak to each other. In any case, she spoke a different language and I made no attempt on my part to communicate with her. Along the way, I began to feel increasingly tight.

My trepidations had its roots elsewhere. I realized that we had become the focus of attention and everyone was staring at us, some smiling thoughtfully, others mockingly. This made me feel very odd. Perhaps the “I” here had to do with my misplaced superiority complex or the person inside me telling me I should have nothing to do with the shabbily clad tribal lady. I was confused. Here I was, keen to show her the way but again feeling uncomfortable being seen walking along with her. In the end, like many of us who live in cities do, I made myself busy on the mobile phone.
As she made her way in front, I slowed my pace just enough to keep pace and confound the onlookers to believe she was not in my company.

Unfortunately, in my preoccupation with the conversation on the mobile phone, I totally lost out on her. Unconcerned, I reached my stage and boarded the bus before shutting myself to my realm of thoughts. Suddenly, the thought about the lady struck me. In the ensuing seconds, I panicked. My eyes darted across the crowded bus in an attempt to find her but in vain. She was not to be seen. My conscience pricked. How could I have left a rustic lady in the late evening all by herself? Why did I accept to help her out if I did not have the guts to take her along with me? Should I have taken up the responsibility then, I mulled. I found it had to comprehend what I had just done and I could not forgive myself for the insensitivity. How will she communicate with the rest of the people and will she reach home safely? I wondered. Ashamed of my action, I asked for God's forgiveness promising myself never to repeat such a thing again. “I hope she is safe,” I beseeched the supernatural being.

At that time, that is all that I could do. Along the way, as I sat retrospectively watching people boarding and alighting swiftly from the bus along the hill side, to my utter surprise, I saw the same tribal lady dashing out of the bus and swiftly taking the footpath up the hillside. Relief and utter joy snowed on me. Did God hear my prayers? May be it was her prayers. Or was it destined to be so? Whichever way you look at it, the whole experience made me learn vital lessons in life as I made my way home with a promise to be clean at heart.