I have had multiple encounters with migrant workers of diverse kinds over the past 5+ years in Chennai. But this one shores up my faith in people. humans. humanity.
It is a Sunday evening, and I am walking back from the book-shop in Besant Nagar; there are lots of people milling around on 16th Cross street, an unfinished obstacle tract. A man approaches me and asks, “Ap hindi bOlte hain?” Hesitantly, I pause because yes, I do speak Hindi.
I notice that he is with a woman and a child (1 yr-ish, sitting near a backpack on the ground). Because of the child, I am inclined to listen to his tale, which goes on so — He is from a village near Shirdi, Maharashtra; came with family as a construction worker in a large project in “Kel-bakkam” (=Kelambakkam); a JCB replaced the workers; is out of work and wants to take a train back home, but they have no money or food left; he is asking for help.
Suspicious, I ask, if you have no money, how did you get here from Kelambakkam (which is at least 40 km away)? One of the construction site tempos dropped us off here, he says. Might make sense (but why Besant Nagar and not somewhere like Adyar, which is more accessible to the station? but that thought only strikes much later). They only speak Hindi and Marathi (oh my!); I ask, why did you stop me or think I speak Hindi? I have been asking many, but nobody stopped, he says. Hmmm.
How much do you need? The fare will be about 1500/-. You expect me to give you that much? No, but just what you can….his wife pipes in and says that they would be grateful for any help at all.
Wondering at myself (no, not really, I am a sucker, after all), I pull out 1500/- and give it to him…he looks at it and says, if you can give me 500 more, we will have enough for food…me the sucker, pulls out another 500/- and say, let me know when you reach your home. How? I give him my phone number (don’t ask), get him to give me a missed call, and then shoo them off the road saying they should rush to the station.
That is that, and you have seen and heard the last of this person you sucker, I tell myself. I call my sister to share the tale and laugh at myself, we agree that it likely was a scam… but the child, I wonder?
But wait, it’s not over…
The morning after, at about 10, I get a call, he reports that they are in Tirupati (?that is what it sounded like, but I wonder whether it was Katpadi), that they were going toward Raichur . I thank him for calling me, wish him luck and think, WELL! I didn’t expect that, he couldn’t be a scammer, if he bothered to call me with a plausible time-line and route. I update my sister and then forget it.
And the morning after that, at about 11 am, I get another call, “Mataji hum ghar pahunch gaye”, we have reached home!
[I look up the railway map; there is a Chennai-Raichur-Shirdi Express that takes ~25 hr, starting at 10 am and finishing at 11 am. Obviously they did not take that train, but must have changed, perhaps at Katpadi and then Raichur? Plausible, nevertheless]
WELL! That made me think that sometimes, being a sucker is not a bad thing.