My father had frowned upon my choice to take up training in a field that was in its nascent stages in our country. What about job opportunities, he had asked. My faith in the decision I had taken against parental opposition was redeemed when I landed employment in the prestigious CMC Hospital, Vellore, after completing my training in the US. My parents arranged that I would travel by our car, with the star driver.
After travelling some distance, I took over the wheel. I passed a group of cyclists. I don’t know if my US left-hand driving was to blame or whether the cyclists were at fault but I hit one of the cycles. The car went off the road, slid down an embankment and came to a stop. It was enough for a crowd to gather. However, since the cyclist had already left without a fuss, the crowd dispersed.
Meanwhile, a black car going towards Bangalore came to a stop and the lone occupant who was behind the wheel walked towards us. After hearing me out he advised me to report the incident to the police. We went to the police station and submitted a letter stating the facts.
Since our presence at the police station was not required any further, the saviour asked the driver to return to Bangalore with the car with the assurance that he would reach me to my destination.
Now we had to find the cyclist to ascertain how seriously injured he was, and to dissuade him from lodging a police complaint. Our inquiries took us to a nearby hospital where the doctor told us that the cyclist had only minor bruises which had been attended to, and that we needn’t worry about his well-being. Our search for the cyclist bore fruit. A sportsman, he was on his way to take part in a competition, and he needed nothing from us except money to repair his cycle.
The saviour and I proceeded way towards Vellore. It was getting dark and there was still some distance to be covered. The roads were unlit and ran between agricultural fields. I found him a congenial companion and was enjoying my conversation with him when, with no word of explanation, he abruptly stopped the car and turned off the engine. “Why did you stop?” I asked. Hearing my frightened voice he said, sounding utterly disappointed, “Since morning I have helped you. Now you doubt my intentions?” I told him that if only he had told me that he was going to stop the car I wouldn’t have felt alarmed. But his hurt was deep and none of my conciliatory words had an effect.