More kindness
MTNL again. Telephone operators are human after all. Before his telephone died on him, the same friend booked an international call to his sister in Minneapolis. The operator promptly called back saying that she had got the answering machine, and would he like to leave a message? But the call had been booked for three minutes, and he couldn't possibly talk to a machine for that long. While his grey cells ticked calculating what this would cost him, the operator said she would leave the message for him. The cost? Nothing at all. The friend was skeptical. But it actually worked. His sister returned the call that very night.

The Delhi of my nightmares
The growing number of vehicles every year to the existing 27 lakh has added to the danger of a Delhi-ite's life on the roads in the Capital. Added to this overpopulation are reckless drivers for whom speeding seems more important than life itself. Last week, while I was returning home after a hectic day's work, I saw a huge crowd near the bus stop at Ber Sarai opposite the old campus of the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU). An accident had taken place and shattered glass carpeted the road. I got off the bus and edged my way to the epicentre of the crowd. What I saw made my heart skip a beat. A man in his early 50s lay on the road in a pool of blood with his limbs virtually hanging from his body by skin. He was still breathing -- a faint sound was audible from his blood-stained mouth. Further enquiries revealed that a speeding carwallah had knocked down the poor fellow. The windshield shattered with the impact, but the driver did not slow down. He simply sped away. Apparently two youths residing nearbytried to chase him on a scooter but in vain. I asked a man standing nearby whether an ambulance had been called and was told that the ambulance authorities had said that since it was a police case, a PCR van had to be contacted. In the meantime, a PCR van reached the spot and after preliminary inquiries took the man away. I could not sleep that night. The entire scene haunted me and the indifferent attitude of the driver made me taste bile. And I said to myself, is this the Delhi of my dreams?

The preachers
Irrespective of the distance, one gains a wealth of experience while travelling. What we learn from those experiences is a different matter altogether. A lawyer friend witnessed a curious scene while travelling from Rohini to the High court. There were no vacant seats and he planted himself near two seated young men. They were having a heated discussion on the ``disease'' of corruption in society. They were cursing their respective fates that they were born in a country where corruption has become the order of the day. They blamed political leaders and policy-makers for the ill.

In the meanwhile, ticket-checkers stopped the bus and began doing the rounds. Many passengers were travelling without a ticket -- including our two `moral' blokes. To save face, they told the ticket inspector that they had forgotten to carry their passes. That did not cut any ice with the ticket-checker, as he gave them a weary look that said he had heard the excuse a thousand time before. ``How did both of you forget your passes? Did you consult each other in the morning?,'' and promptly fined them Rs 20 each.At this, a fellow passenger quipped: ``Corruption generates from here.'' And my friend realised that it is too easy to preach.