Helping out an old couple, stranded in Mumbai Airport.

 Prelude:

The genesis of my character to help others probably stemmed from listening to elders in the house, the happiness I used to derive and enjoy from such acts, or the feeling that I would be praised by everyone. This generally increased my dopamine (feel-good hormone) levels. To this extent, I was selfish in helping others; otherwise, it was purely unconditional, and hence, I didn’t expect anything in return either from those who were helped by me or wanted to score a Credit Point with The Almighty.

Every time I used to do such acts of helping others, it gave me a sense of great satisfaction of being useful to somebody and thanking them and HIM for giving me an opportunity. On a number of occasions, I used to wonder about the huge imaginary game-board that HE must be using to move us with a view to providing us a chance to meet strangers and assist those in need, and how complex and complicated HIS game-board is!?

Be that as it may, my current story revolves around a tired old couple stranded in Mumbai Airport, and serendipitously, I happened to assist them.  

The Story:

Those were the years, we used to live in Goa as I was posted as the Head of Finance in UB Group’s Brewery. Though I enjoyed life in Goa with my family, there was a craving for us to get back to Bengaluru, as it was just blooming with lots of opportunities from the booming IT and other Business Service Industries.

I had this opportunity to attend an interview with one of the MNCs (having a turnover of over US$500 million, in those years) and had a manufacturing unit in Bengaluru. They were one of the leading manufacturers of Hot-melt Adhesives worldwide.

I had mentioned to my consultants (ABC) that it would be difficult for me to attend the interview on that given Thursday, as there were no daily flights from Goa to Bengaluru. This forced me to fly on Wednesday, via Mumbai into Bengaluru, which meant an additional cost to the company.  I was told that the company would bear this additional cost and went ahead and booked the tickets to depart on Wednesday afternoon, from Goa, and also my return two days thereafter.

Flying from Goa, I reached Mumbai by 4:30 pm, and my flight to Bengaluru was around 6:30 pm. I was casually loitering in the departure lounge after checking in for my next flight. While at it, I saw an elderly, distraught couple pleading with the lady assisting at the check-in counter. My immediate reaction was to stay away from this melee. However, my inquisitive mind was deeply entrenched in the conversation, and I couldn’t help but get drawn into this fracas.

I asked the checking-in clerk about the issue at hand. She said that the couple’s tickets had lapsed and unless they purchased fresh tickets, they couldn’t board the flight. I took the couple to a vacant seating place in the lounge and enquired about this. That somebody speaking their dialect and enquiring about themselves boosted their morale. The elderly gentleman spoke in Kannada and told me his story.

His name was Shankarnarayan, and he was a retired officer of the Water Supply Board. They were on their return journey from the US after visiting their son and his family. Their trip got extended, and their son managed to get the flight tickets rescheduled. However, their tickets for the domestic travel couldn’t be rescheduled for whatever reason. They tried to talk to their travel agent in Bengaluru about this confusion but unfortunately, they couldn’t get any response from the agent. They had exhausted all their money during their long travel, and they didn’t have any credit cards as well.

It was beyond 5:00 pm by now, and the flight on which they were booked had already left. Having slogged for over 16 hours, they were dog-tired and at their wits and strength’s end. He said that there was no option for them to travel by bus or train as an alternative mode in their current state of mind.

There was my friend’s wife, Veena, (wo)manning the counter, who had shied away from talking to them in Kannada, lest they latch on to her for help. I checked with her discreetly and she said they were genuinely in need of help and if someone can buy them the tickets, she can help them by allotting comfortable seats.

I went up to the couple and informed them about my intention to help them out and not to worry. They were almost in tears hearing my words of assurance, and said that they stayed in Padmanabha Nagar, reasonably close to our place. They will pay back the money the next day itself. The gentleman added that during his long service, he had helped so many people, selflessly, and that HE has therefore sent me to their rescue today. With gratitude-filled eyes and choking voice, both of them wholeheartedly accepted my assistance in their moment of despair.

I went to the Station Director’s office and ensured that he would accommodate them on the same flight as I was flying to Bengaluru. He said he will assist, but they should buy their tickets soon. I strode to the ticketing counter and purchased two tickets, swiping my credit card.

At the check-in counter, Veena was flabbergasted at my action and shockingly asked me how I took the decision of paying close to Rs. 4,500/- (a tad less than my monthly salary). I smilingly said that I couldn’t stand the sight of this helpless and hapless senior couple, and I expected that the payment would come as promised by them, the next day. I added that if this is my hard-earned money, no one can snatch it, and if not, I can never keep it. This was a test for me, as well.

As promised, the Station Director of the airlines made arrangements for them to board the flight, and Veena chipped in with allotting comfortable seats along with me. The airhostess too impressed me with their bit of Samaritan act in offering extra snacks to the couple as they were starving and had not paid attention to their stomachs due to stressful hours before our departure.

Epilogue:

The next day, I attended the interview, and I must admit that I did fairly well. I was told about the outcome a week later. That I couldn’t get the job didn’t deter me. The next day, I was ruminating on my experience and narrating it to my folks as we heard the gate open and in came Mr. Shankarnarayan, with his nephew and gave me not just the promised money but a few packets of chocolates and a toy container truck with a car in it, for my daughter. It was such a humbling moment for us as we reluctantly and gratefully accepted the extras.

On my return journey, I met Veena again at Mumbai Airport and conveyed to her that I had received my money spent on their tickets. She was glad that it ended well.  

Back home, I narrated the thread of incidents to my wife, who was initially a bit irritated with my gesture but supported my actions when she learnt the plight of the elderly couple and how we, as a family, were showered with blessings from them. I had left a packet of chocolates back in Bengaluru for my niece and brother-in-law, and brought the rest along with the toys for my daughter. My daughter still calls him Lorry Uncle.

Bottom line: Experiences like these made me the person I am today, and I am glad that I could get this and a few such opportunities to help the less privileged.