The boy who got me back to Bangalore – Part 1

This story is about a case of male chivalry and getting your ass saved by a stranger.  

At the age of 23, when you land up in an extremely high paying job, live in one the most beautiful cities of the country, don’t have any responsibilities to take care of, it is very easy to get dissatisfied. Yes, dissatisfied. You know, if at 23 your colleagues/friends start buying houses, cars, looking for brides/grooms, it is as if you can see your entire life planned and organized in a google calendar. Monday to Friday, work. Wednesday, lady’s night out. Friday night, party. Saturday night, party. Sunday, chill at home. Get married, have a kid. Go to kid’s parties. Buy another home after 10 years. Buy another car. Vacations abroad. Have another kid. And goto repeat.

Even now, after almost a decade, this line of thought creeps bejesus out of me. At 23, it would make me go berserk. I would do crazy things. Go on solo trips. Join and work in NGOs. Give up all the money and comfort of corporate job! This story is of one such trip.

It was a Thursday. Remember this old cartoon? This is how a typical Thursday is for most of the corporate sector.

typical work week

In my case, the state of Wednesday usually continued on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and actually all other days of the week. So my cartoon worked like this:

sunday-to-saturday

 

And that’s what I did. I booked tickets for Wayanad. A beautiful forested district in Kerala. I had always wanted to go there to stay in the tree huts of Vythiri resort. But I couldn’t go to the resort, since it was somewhere in the middle of the woods and I was on a solo trip with no personal vehicle and no co-passengers. The next best choice was to go to the nearest biggest town and figure out the rest of the travel from there. So I booked a KSRTC ticket online (in the time of no redbus, there were government booking sites!) from Bangalore to Kalpetta in an A/C Volvo. I used TripAdvisor, a very new website, to book a room in Kalpetta in a 4-star hotel, close to the bus stop and still not the main road to avoid traffic noise. This was the first time I had used TripAdvisor to book a hotel reservation. I never confirmed the booking directly with the hotel. In fact, it never occurred to me that I might not even have a booking! In my defence, I get this insane trust/faith that everything will be okay from my mom. #23-years-old #risks #stupidity #innocence #genetics #recklessness #easy-to-trust

On Friday night, I reached Majestic, the inter-state bus terminal in Bangalore. For me, it was the pride of India. Amazing infrastructure, ease for passengers, safety, cleanliness. And when compared to Delhi’s ISBT Kashmiri Gate, it was a world apart! Bus terminals are a place of extreme excitement, just like airports. Even though you are still in town, you feel your trip has already started! I got into the luxurious bus, settled down, waited for my co-traveller in the 2-seat coach.

The co-passenger turned out to be a young boy, almost same age as mine. We introduced, exchanged pleasantries. As always, he was surprised to find a solo travelled. But the more I spoke about myself, he understood that this is one cuckoo case. I remember seeing some sort of sympathy for me in his eyes.

It was 4 A.M. in the morning, when he suddenly woke me up. We had arrived!

WHATTTTTT?!! It is still dark out there!

I found myself standing on a deserted road below a single street light at the bus stop of what looked like a very small town. There were a couple of people sleeping outside the deserted shops, dogs were barking and a few other passengers had quickly disappeared into cars or whatever conveyance was waiting for them. While my panic nerves were firing up, I asked my co-passenger how to find the hotel. He explained the way. It was about 300 mtrs away and I could see the road leading up to it. For the sake of brevity, and also because he really was, for the rest of the story, we will call this guy ‘Hero’.

Within next 2 minutes, I was really scared as I could suddenly realize all that can go wrong going further. A little too late, but yes, now I was thinking about it. What if the hotel doesn’t have a night desk? What if I do not have a reservation? What if the hotel is not safe? What if someone jumps on me in the dark before I reach the hotel? What if… While I was numb, thinking of all that could possibly go wrong, I heard Hero’s voice.

Hero: When are you going back to Bangalore?

Anu: Ummm.. Sunday night.

Hero: Oh cool, me too. Which bus?

Anu: Actually I do not have a reservation yet. I will find out tomorrow.

Hero: Oh, you know, it is really difficult to find the reservation this last minute.

Anu: Umm…  (Right now I can’t be bothered about Sunday!)

Hero: Would you like me to help you get a reservation? I would also be looking for one. I can look for both of us.

Anu: Hmm.. okay..

Hero: Give me your number so that I can confirm you about the ticket.

WHAT?!!! As always. Ladki dekhi nahi uska phone number pehle chahiye. Seriously, why the hell do I get caught up in such situations.

Anu: Why don’t you give me your number? If I do not get ticket tomorrow I will give you a call.

Wow! If I was a guy and offered help to someone who would not trust me with her number but was willing to call me back for help, I would be seriously offended. But, at 23, brought up in a gender unequal society, as a girl, being helped was my ‘birth right’. If I am in trouble, ‘good’ men were supposed to protect me, help me, guide me. Be chivalrous. Weird thing is, they usually were!

Hero: Okay cool. Here it is.

Anu: Ok thanks! How will I reach the hotel? (Current situation grabbing my nerves again)

Hero: Just walk down the road. It is so close. You will be fine.

 

He said bye and left. I walked on. He was right, it was quite alright. I reached the hotel quickly. Woke up someone to open the front gate. Woke up another person to check me in and give me my room keys. No one looked at me with leering eyes and threatening looks. They were all too sleepy to care. I slept off too.

Next day I realized Kalpetta was not a tourist place. It was more of a trading station for merchants and businesses. And yes, Hero was correct. There was no seat on the government operated bus back to Bangalore on Sunday. But I was too adventurous to care about it.

To be continued

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