Why would anyone write an obituary for an unknown person?
That too, during Christmas.
This is such a tale.
Those who know Thodupuzha - won’t disagree with anyone who might say that, finding a parking in this small town is a matter of plain luck.
On a drizzling day in September I went to the Margin-free store, to buy a pack of coffee powder; after ‘lucky-parking’ the car in front of Saira Gift Shop - opposite to the grocery store.
I had no pockets - as I was wearing ‘mundu”. Plus, my shirt was of a brand that comes with no pockets stitched on.
While checking out I declined, a carry bag, because I don’t like to take plastics home and also because the store charge ₹ 3 for a bag. ( Luckachan – my childhood friend and Mercy - only half a Merry X’mas greeting to you !!! )
Kerala is a strange place, here you pay for the package in uppity stores while the common vendors give it for free.
Waiting for a gap in the traffic flow - to cross the busy street with an open non- folding umbrella, a wallet and a phone, and the car key dangling on the little finger and the instant-coffee catering packet sans a carry bag, I reached the car in rain and fumbled a bit to press the unlock button. In the melee the purse slid off the hand to the rainy tarmac. I drove off home.
Other than some cash, it had my driving licence, a couple of debit cards and two credit cards - one of which was international card , that just could be used by anyone anywhere as it did not have the two factor authentication feature of one time passwords.
Luckily, I became aware of the loss, as I reached home. A person was waiting to collect some money. We searched the car thoroughly and afterwards, the only place to look for – logically - was the street from the store counter to the parking position.
I immediately hot- listed 1 credit card over phone, but the 2nd one could not be.
I drove back to the store without even an iota of hope to find the wallet. A friend and I went to all the nearby by shops on both sides of the street to see any of them had a camera with a view panning the area of interest. But there was no luck as in every store camera range ended at their entrance door.
So I went home and transferred all the money in one account of the lost debit card to the next card’s account and then went to the second bank to withdraw all the cash in it. Even as I was entering the bank I got a phone call. It was from a friend who was currently out of town, asking me if I had lost my purse.
He directed me to Saira Gift Shop in front of which the car was parked. Its owner Mr Ismail had called him, because he knew we were mutual friends. Thinking that the wallet was there I drove back to town.
Earlier, as we went about the stores checking out the cameras, we had been to Saira too. Its owner Ismail, knew me and was of immense help. One of his employees named Tomy had seen a homeless women living on alms, pick up the wet wallet from the parking area. As it was public space he did not interfere.
He could recognise her as she was regular around the bus stand area. Ismail sent Tomy with me to look for the women and we drove around the streets several times trying to locate her. The consensus was, she might have gone back to her place as it was a rainy day. While we were riding around we got a call from Ismail. He had made some inquiries of his own using his contacts and traced the lady to a shop in the private bus stand.
We reached the place - to happily find the wallet and its finder, an elderly woman, from Andra Pradesh with a smiling face. She solicited money on the street and spent the nights on shop’s back-veranda, so that night patrol would not beat her with cane.
The lady had already handed the purse to the shop’s staff. This shop was where she used to entrust her daily earnings, so as to keep it safe from money snatchers - some of whom were people from her own native place.
All my cards and money were inside. I did expressed my special appreciation befittingly and this women from Kadapa, Andra Pradesh in turn blessed me by placing her hands over my head and said something which I couldn’t understand.
I was also baffled a bit because this poor lady had done an honourable thing but the stores people had not called me even though the address tag in the wallet had my phone number. It was Ismail’s efforts alone that traced the wallet.
………………………………………………………….
Yesterday - I took the extra effort meet her again - because it is Christmas. To reach the shop in the bus stand one has to walk a bit. Parking the car at the Lions Club I walked to the store where she kept safe custody of her daily alms.
But there was sad news. She had died in Kadapa a few days before.
Taken aback I asked what happened.
A little after the wallet incident she fell down in pain. Some folks took her to a nearby hospital. The ECG had some variation and so they referred her to a hospital with that facility. Then she went back to Andra Pradesh and came back some days later – completing magic-remedy treatment by a local quack who gave her protective black thread to be worn on her arms and votive ash. She felt very fit and was working again. But soon she went back home again and then they heard she had died.
How did you know I enquired? Two times a week she used to call her home. As lady had developed a good reputation, people used to help her. One nice person used to offer his phone for her use. She maintained good contacts with her home and used to take the money home twice a year. She would reach Kottayam by bus and then take the train to Kadapa. As she did not return by the usual time they called her home. One lady employee at this store can speak Telugu and that helped.
As a human being I feel sad for her and for thousands of other such anonymous souls. I tried to estimate her age. Seventy or seventy five? Or perhaps much lower than that to about my age. Who knows? The punishing life had given her a beaten look. But she had a glowing good heat and was certainly a woman of honour. She had returned a stranger’s purse the best way she could.
In one convoluted manner I am also glad for her. I am glad she was with her family when she left.
Had she lived I could have made her smile once again – even if for a brief moment.
………………………………….
Friends, wish you all - peace joy and happiness.
Merry Christmas.
That too, during Christmas.
This is such a tale.
Those who know Thodupuzha - won’t disagree with anyone who might say that, finding a parking in this small town is a matter of plain luck.
On a drizzling day in September I went to the Margin-free store, to buy a pack of coffee powder; after ‘lucky-parking’ the car in front of Saira Gift Shop - opposite to the grocery store.
I had no pockets - as I was wearing ‘mundu”. Plus, my shirt was of a brand that comes with no pockets stitched on.
While checking out I declined, a carry bag, because I don’t like to take plastics home and also because the store charge ₹ 3 for a bag. ( Luckachan – my childhood friend and Mercy - only half a Merry X’mas greeting to you !!! )
Kerala is a strange place, here you pay for the package in uppity stores while the common vendors give it for free.
Waiting for a gap in the traffic flow - to cross the busy street with an open non- folding umbrella, a wallet and a phone, and the car key dangling on the little finger and the instant-coffee catering packet sans a carry bag, I reached the car in rain and fumbled a bit to press the unlock button. In the melee the purse slid off the hand to the rainy tarmac. I drove off home.
Other than some cash, it had my driving licence, a couple of debit cards and two credit cards - one of which was international card , that just could be used by anyone anywhere as it did not have the two factor authentication feature of one time passwords.
Luckily, I became aware of the loss, as I reached home. A person was waiting to collect some money. We searched the car thoroughly and afterwards, the only place to look for – logically - was the street from the store counter to the parking position.
I immediately hot- listed 1 credit card over phone, but the 2nd one could not be.
I drove back to the store without even an iota of hope to find the wallet. A friend and I went to all the nearby by shops on both sides of the street to see any of them had a camera with a view panning the area of interest. But there was no luck as in every store camera range ended at their entrance door.
So I went home and transferred all the money in one account of the lost debit card to the next card’s account and then went to the second bank to withdraw all the cash in it. Even as I was entering the bank I got a phone call. It was from a friend who was currently out of town, asking me if I had lost my purse.
He directed me to Saira Gift Shop in front of which the car was parked. Its owner Mr Ismail had called him, because he knew we were mutual friends. Thinking that the wallet was there I drove back to town.
Earlier, as we went about the stores checking out the cameras, we had been to Saira too. Its owner Ismail, knew me and was of immense help. One of his employees named Tomy had seen a homeless women living on alms, pick up the wet wallet from the parking area. As it was public space he did not interfere.
He could recognise her as she was regular around the bus stand area. Ismail sent Tomy with me to look for the women and we drove around the streets several times trying to locate her. The consensus was, she might have gone back to her place as it was a rainy day. While we were riding around we got a call from Ismail. He had made some inquiries of his own using his contacts and traced the lady to a shop in the private bus stand.
We reached the place - to happily find the wallet and its finder, an elderly woman, from Andra Pradesh with a smiling face. She solicited money on the street and spent the nights on shop’s back-veranda, so that night patrol would not beat her with cane.
The lady had already handed the purse to the shop’s staff. This shop was where she used to entrust her daily earnings, so as to keep it safe from money snatchers - some of whom were people from her own native place.
All my cards and money were inside. I did expressed my special appreciation befittingly and this women from Kadapa, Andra Pradesh in turn blessed me by placing her hands over my head and said something which I couldn’t understand.
I was also baffled a bit because this poor lady had done an honourable thing but the stores people had not called me even though the address tag in the wallet had my phone number. It was Ismail’s efforts alone that traced the wallet.
………………………………………………………….
Yesterday - I took the extra effort meet her again - because it is Christmas. To reach the shop in the bus stand one has to walk a bit. Parking the car at the Lions Club I walked to the store where she kept safe custody of her daily alms.
But there was sad news. She had died in Kadapa a few days before.
Taken aback I asked what happened.
A little after the wallet incident she fell down in pain. Some folks took her to a nearby hospital. The ECG had some variation and so they referred her to a hospital with that facility. Then she went back to Andra Pradesh and came back some days later – completing magic-remedy treatment by a local quack who gave her protective black thread to be worn on her arms and votive ash. She felt very fit and was working again. But soon she went back home again and then they heard she had died.
How did you know I enquired? Two times a week she used to call her home. As lady had developed a good reputation, people used to help her. One nice person used to offer his phone for her use. She maintained good contacts with her home and used to take the money home twice a year. She would reach Kottayam by bus and then take the train to Kadapa. As she did not return by the usual time they called her home. One lady employee at this store can speak Telugu and that helped.
As a human being I feel sad for her and for thousands of other such anonymous souls. I tried to estimate her age. Seventy or seventy five? Or perhaps much lower than that to about my age. Who knows? The punishing life had given her a beaten look. But she had a glowing good heat and was certainly a woman of honour. She had returned a stranger’s purse the best way she could.
In one convoluted manner I am also glad for her. I am glad she was with her family when she left.
Had she lived I could have made her smile once again – even if for a brief moment.
………………………………….
Friends, wish you all - peace joy and happiness.
Merry Christmas.
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