My Safari

 

My first two-wheeler was Safari. I don't recall if it was a Tata product or Honda or Bajaj or something else. But it was called Safari. I got it when I was fifteen. And even though I was too young to have a driving license, I used to drive it to commute locally.  

One evening, I was going to my music class in Ramnagar on my Safari. I reached half way and it stopped in the middle of the road. I got off the Safari, dragged it to the side of the road to check what happened. I checked the fuel detector and it reminded me that I was driving it on reserve. It ran out of gas, I mean petrol. I knew it was on reserve and I needed to fill petrol in it, but because of my carelessness I completely forgot about it. One good thing was that it stopped right in front of a petrol pump, Visat Petrol Pump. I opened my bag to look for my wallet. And guess what, I couldn't find it. Another carelessness in one day. Even if I forgot to fill the petrol, if I had remembered to bring my wallet, I could have avoided this misery.  I checked my bag three times hoping my wallet would just pop up. But I was disappointed. No wallet. I was terrified. What to do now?

This is back in the day, when there were no cell phones. I didn't even have one rupee to use the public phone to call home. Sometimes I wonder how the heck we survived without cell phones back then. I looked around in desperation to check if I see any familiar face. I thought hard to recall if I know anyone who lives around who could help me. But at that time, Chandkheda wasn't this crowded and unlike today not half of my relatives used to live there. I couldn't find anyone.

What should I do? Should I leave the Safari here and walk to home and get help? But what if somebody steals it, I can't leave it on the street unattended. Not a great idea. The worst thing I would have to do is to drag this heavy Safari a mile away back to home. And there was no way I could do that either. I was getting paranoid. I was so terrified of this situation that tears started to roll down my eyes. I had been standing there for about fifteen minutes and I couldn't find any solution.

I was crying, looking at the Safari and thinking- "How do I get out of this problem?"

Suddenly, I heard someone ask me- "What happened beta? Why are you crying?" - I looked up. It was a transgender person who we call "Masi" in Gujarat. I used to be very afraid of them ever since I was a kid because of their appearance and loud voice. I remember I used to run inside the house and hide if I see them coming towards my house. But today, when that person asked me with so much compassion- "What happened beta? Why are you crying?" it felt like music to my ears.

I said sobbing- "My Safari ran out of petrol and I don't have any money to buy it."

She said- "That's it? You are crying for that? I will give you the money, go get the petrol from this petrol pump." And she took out a fifty rupee bill. This was the golden period when petrol used to be twenty-five rupees a liter. She could have just given me ten or twenty rupee bill and it would have been suffice. But still she gave me fifty bucks.

I said- "But how will I pay this back to you?"

She said- " Don't worry about it. I will get it from your Dad. Where do you live? "

I said- "Fullstop Society, it is that way".- I pointed at Gandhinagar Highway. I wanted to give her my full address so she can find it but she interrupted me and said- "I know. I know. Take this money now and I will come to your house to get it back."

 I was so relieved. I stopped crying and told her- "Thank you so much."

She said- "Don't worry. Go now."- and then left. I saw her leaving. I was so thankful to her. You know how people say- God comes to help you in disguise. That day, I experienced it for real. I am sure a lot of straight people must have seen me crying that day but none of them stopped to check why I was crying. Only this one human being,  dared to be a human. My phobia for this community was gone forever.

I went to the petrol pump, got the petrol and went to my music class. After I got home that evening, I told my Mom and Dad what happened. I was wondering on my way back- how is she going to find out what house number I live at, how will she know who my Dad is. At that time, my society was so isolated, nobody knew where it was. I didn't also think she had been to my house before. I thought she won't be able to find my house. She lost fifty bucks. She should have taken my full address. After a few days I forgot about it.

In my surprise, one Sunday, she did show up. I was inside my house and she was screaming from outside - "Where is everyone?  Come outside, you owe me fifty rupees." - I was very surprised. How did she find my house? Do these people have secret spies or something? My Dad and I went outside and there she was.

She told my Dad- "Give me fifty bucks. I lent it to your daughter."- My Dad gave her more than fifty bucks and thanked her for helping me. I was glad that she was able to find my house. Now her demanding tone didn't bother me. It sounded affectionate to me. I thanked her again for helping me that day.

"God bless you"- She said with a smile on her face and left.

I remember when I took my daughter to India for the first time, one of them came to congratulate us and bless her. She took my daughter into her arms and sang a beautiful lullaby for her and blessed her.  If this incidence hadn't have happened, I would have hesitated to hand my daughter into their arms. I don't know much about this community in India but I am glad that I am over my phobia.

I know some people who don't even consider these people humans. We call ourselves human beings, but do we really know what is it like being human?