A Great Succour Author : Dr. K. S. Kang

 

A Great Succour

Author: Dr. K. S. Kang

This story is shared by one of my friend that I am relating to you almost as I received it.

I am sharing a personal story from 2009 that has stayed with me for nearly 17 years. What began as an unfortunate incident during a holiday in Rajasthan turned into a powerful reminder of the values we learnt in Sainik Schools- integrity, responsibility, compassion and looking out for one another. My Wife T and I set off for what was supposed to be a romantic holiday in Udaipur. Like many budget-conscious travellers of our era, we boarded an RSRTC Bus from Bikaner House, New Delhi. Since it was a long and overnight journey and the bus rattled through the darkness while passengers slept in diverse uncomfortable positions that only overnight bus travellers can manage. At around 7 a.m in the morning, I woke up to find that bus had only reached Chittorgarh. It was a chilly morning. My wife was fast asleep, wrapped in a blanket and enjoying a sort of sleep that seems possibly only on public transport. The bus halted at Chittor bus stand, and I stepped out for a cup of tea. Now there are a few things in life as satisfying as a hot steaming cup of tea on a chilly winter morning of North India. I stood there enjoying my tea, while watching buses come and go.

Just then our driver climbed back into the bus. All the passengers who had stepped down suddenly rushed towards the bus as nobody wanted to be the unfortunate soul left behind. I boarded the bus from the front door and started making my way towards my seat near the back. The aisle was narrow. At the same time, a man wrapped in blanket was coming to get off the bus. As we squeezed past each other, our backsides brushed. Actually ‘brushed’ is probably too gentle a word as I distinctly felt his push against me. For a split second, I was annoyed and almost turned around to give him a piece of my mind. But then I thought that in crowded buses with narrow aisle such things happen. This was my mistake number one.

The bus pulled out of Chittor and was cruising towards Udaipur smoothly. A few minutes later, I felt something strange. A sort of lightness. You know that feeling when you have worn a watch every day for years and suddenly leave your home without wearing it. Nothing hurts, nothing looks different. Yet something feels wrong. That feeling. I instinctively reached for my hip pocket. Flat. Completely flat as my wallet was gone ! I rechecked with the same outcome- my wallet was gone. I woke up my wife and told her about it. Within seconds panic set in as wallet contained not only currency notes but credit cards, debit cards, driving license, PAN card and the like. Without money we were heading for a holiday to a city where we knew absolutely nobody. How exactly does one enjoy a romantic vacation with the feeling of a loss of every identification paper? Fortunately my wife T remained calm, ‘ Block the cards first,’ she said. For the next half an hour, I called every bank I could think of. One by one, the cards were blocked. Thankfully T carried cash. More importantly she carried her own cards. So it seemed that holiday was still salvageable. We decided that thief had already stolen enough from us and now we are not going to allow him to steal our vacation from us.

So we checked into our lovely hotel overlooking Lake Pichola and began exploring Udaipur. The city was beautiful- white palaces reflecting in the lake, narrow lanes and historic buildings. All denoted gentle pace of one of the most romantic city of Rajasthan. By evening, we were on a boat cruising across Lake Picchola as the Sun slowly set behind the Aravalli hills. For some time I nearly forgot about my missing wallet.

Suddenly my phone rang that brought me back from the romantic world of boating in Picchola to the world of reality. I picked up the phone, the gentleman on the other side introduced himself as the Hindi teacher of Sainik School Chittorgarh. This was an unexpected sentence to hear in the romantic environment of Lake Picchola while boating. He told me that his son who had travelled from Chittorgarh to Udaipur that morning, of course by a different bus had located a wallet lying on the floor with a number of credit cards, debit cards, identification cards and various documents. His son had first tried the obvious approach. He looked at the photographs on the identity cards and then looked around the bus to see if any passenger matched it. Nobody did, so he took wallet with him. As it happened, that day was his very first day at work at Oberoi Hotel in Udaipur. That evening when he returned back to Chittorgarh, he told his father- Hindi teacher at Sainik School Chittorgarh- about the wallet that he had found and handed it over to him. The teacher examined the contents and found one of my visiting cards but unfortunately it only contained my office board number and as it was weekend, so nobody at the office replied.

Undeterred, he began calling other people whose business cards were inside my wallet. Imagine his determination. One by one he contacted everyone but without any result. At last, he phoned my car dealer and he provided him my personal mobile number. Mystery solved. I was enormously relieved when I heard his voice that my wallet is with him. The cash was gone, as expected, but all my identity cards and documents were intact.

Then came the part of the conversation that I remember most vividly. I introduced myself as a former cadet of Sainik School Goalpara. After a brief pause the scolding began. A proper teacher’s scolding. How are you so careless ? Why were you carrying all important documents while travelling? Why did you keep a small piece of paper containing the PIN’s of all your bank cards inside the wallet? What kind of idiot does that ? I listened quietly as he was absolutely right. And every former Sainikian knows that when a Sainik School teacher decides to lecture you, your age becomes relevant. At that moment i felt no longer as professional on vacation. I was a student again. This scolding, which was delivered with great conviction and even greater affection and concern, lasted several minutes. That is one of the wonderful things about the Sainik School fraternity. The school may change, the language may change but the bond remains.

‘Have you seen Chittorgarh?’ came the voice from the other end. ‘No, sir’ I replied. ‘Then come tomorrow morning, have breakfast with us’ he suggested and the plan was formulated. The next morning I and my wife hired a taxi and drove straight to Sainik School Chittorgarh. We were welcomed into the teacher’s staff quarters as though we were old family friends. His son was at work and had gone to Udaipur as it was his second day of job at Oberoi Hotel Udaipur But his parents hosted us with extraordinary warmth. Over breakfast we exchanged stories about Sainik School Goalpara and Sainik School Chittorgarh. Eventually it was time to leave but before we parted, Sir gave one final instruction, ‘ Since you have come all the way, you must see the Chittorgarh fort.’ That single piece of advise transformed our trip. Until then Chittorgarh had merely been the place where my wallet went missing. Now it became one of the highlights of our Rajasthan sojourn.

The massive fort rose above the plains like a city frozen in time. We wandered through the imposing gates that had witnessed centuries of invasions and battles. We stood before the magnificent Vijay Stambha, built by Maharana Kumbha to celebrate victory over the combined forces of Sultan of Gujrat and Malwa. We visited Kirti Stambha, saw sites associated with poetess devotee of Lord Krishna, Meera, whose devotion continues to inspire millions. We heard tales of Maharana Pratap, his loyal horse Chetak, and the fierce Rajput resistance against overwhelming odds. We stood where the legendary tales of Rani Padmini and the Jauhars of Chittor still echo through history. Every stone seemed to have a story. Every ruin seemed to whisper a memory. I could not believe that I had almost skipped all of this. I would probably have passed through Chittorgarh without a second glance. Sometimes a misfortune is simply an invitation to discover something unexpected. By evening we were back to our hotel in Udaipur. The wallet was recovered, the documents were safe, and the holidays were rescued. And I had gained something far more valuable than the few thousand rupees that had disappeared. I had ben remained that good people still exist. Over the years I have returned to Udaipur many times, and whatsoever I do, I make it a point to visit Chittorgarh. Most visitors rush straight to the lakes and palaces of Udaipur. I understand their temptation. But for me, Chittorgarh will always be special. After all, it is the only place where a pickpocket stole my wallet and, in doing so, accidentally gave me one of the my most precious travel memories.