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During my service in Bhilai Steel Plant, I had accommodated Bahaddur, a young orphan from Assam, in our servant quarters to help us run the house since my wife, too, was employed in the same plant. Being sincere, hard-working, and honest, he soon became our ‘Man Friday’. He fully took care of the household chores besides maintaining the garden, washing our vehicles, bringing provisions, pressing the clothes, and so on.
Trusting him completely, we would go on long outstation holidays, leaving the entire house in his care for weeks together. One day, we came back home late at night after attending a wedding. My wife rather thoughtlessly kept her expensive gold necklace, gifted to her by her mother, in the dressing table drawer as she was too tired to keep it in our locker.
The next morning, she got busy with her office work and forgot about it completely. When she returned home, she was shocked to find the necklace missing. It was a very tough situation for us since the entire household was fully under Bahaddur's care and the domestic help in whom, too, we had reposed trust. Reluctantly, we questioned them to explain the loss since no one else was in the picture.
To our utter dismay, the maid made a startling statement without batting an eyelid that she had seen Bahaddur pocket the necklace! We stared at him in disbelief as he, too, looked stunned by the allegation. Left with no choice, we reported it to the police, who took him into custody. However, the smart police officer zeroed in on the real culprit, who turned out to be the maid from whom the necklace was eventually recovered. Overcome by guilt, we apologised to Bahaddur, but the sublime bond between us had already been shattered.
Despite our repeated entreaties, he left our house, leaving behind a gash of guilt in our hearts.
A couple of months later, I was to travel to Nagpur by the Howrah-Bombay Express. While boarding at Durg station, my wallet, with the travel ticket and money in it, slipped out of my hip pocket and landed between the rails. I was desperately looking for help when the train whistled for departure!
As god- sent, a porter in a red turban appeared from nowhere. And lo! It was Bahaddur himself! Acting swiftly, he crawled beneath the footboard, unmindful of the grave risk to him.
As I stood transfixed and deeply moved by his ennobling act despite the bitter incident of the past, he retrieved my wallet. My heart pounded with joy and gratitude for getting an opportunity to atone for our guilt. I handed out a big note to him, but Bahaddur did not even look at it! Instead, his eyes reflected a still unhealed feeling of 'betrayal' before he hurried out of my sight. His magnanimity left a much deeper wound in my heart, which often haunts me to this day.