<p class="bodytext">‘TGIF! That’s a wrap, and let’s enjoy the weekend’. It’s a delightful feeling after a packed working week as we step into a calm weekend. Oddly enough, one of those ‘Thank God It’s Fridays’ was an unforgettable day for my brother, Santosh.</p>.<p class="bodytext">It was still an early Friday evening in the summer of 2014. While shooting the last weekly report, Santosh received a distressed call from his friend, Arun, who was running late to the railway station. Willing to help, he swiftly left the office to drop off his friend. As they approached the station, they heard the soon-to-depart train announcement. He advised Arun to quickly board the train while he parked the bike. Wasting no time, he hurried to the ticket counter to buy a platform ticket, where he found a coin-operated vending machine. Rummaging through his wallet for a Rs 5 coin, he felt blessed to have avoided the long queue at the counter and reflected—after all, Bengaluru indeed is India’s IT capital, and technology has caught up.</p>.<p class="bodytext">As the machine processed the ticket, he was lost in memories of our childhood summer vacation. The announcement at the station marked the commencement of our joyful journey to our grandparents ‘odu veedu’ (tile-roofed house) near the vibrant paddy fields and the much-awaited fun-filled holidays. </p>.<p class="bodytext">“Prayanikare dayavittu gamanisi! Gaadi sankhye Ondu Aaru...” As the announcement repeated in Kannada, it now sounded like a panic moment. Soon he grabbed the ticket and sprinted to bid goodbye to his bestie but ended up right in front of the railway ticket checker. He confidently showed the freshly minted ticket, but to his disbelief, the checker began to write a trespassing penalty, rebuking him for trying to get away without a platform ticket. “This is the ticket,” he retorted in utter shock as he glanced at the ticket for the first time. No sooner did he start to read the tiny printed details of the token than he realised that the vending machine was a weighing machine! “Why on earth would anyone keep a weighing machine near the ticket counter?” he grumbled to himself.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I would say that my brother—a naïve, thoroughbred techie—thought the world had embraced the digital era as fast as his workplace. Adding to the dismay, he saw the train chugging away from the platform to its destination. Disheartened and speechless, he pulled out his wallet to remit the fine when the checker grabbed the token and closely examined it again, “Sir, the token shows zero kg!” seemingly realising that there was confusion. My brother’s face lit up as he explained the entire mix-up and profusely thanked the checker for his diligence in understanding the situation and his version of the truth.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Although he couldn’t bid goodbye to Arun, he felt happy that his friend did not miss the train and felt lighter at the achievement of Size Zero!</p>
<p class="bodytext">‘TGIF! That’s a wrap, and let’s enjoy the weekend’. It’s a delightful feeling after a packed working week as we step into a calm weekend. Oddly enough, one of those ‘Thank God It’s Fridays’ was an unforgettable day for my brother, Santosh.</p>.<p class="bodytext">It was still an early Friday evening in the summer of 2014. While shooting the last weekly report, Santosh received a distressed call from his friend, Arun, who was running late to the railway station. Willing to help, he swiftly left the office to drop off his friend. As they approached the station, they heard the soon-to-depart train announcement. He advised Arun to quickly board the train while he parked the bike. Wasting no time, he hurried to the ticket counter to buy a platform ticket, where he found a coin-operated vending machine. Rummaging through his wallet for a Rs 5 coin, he felt blessed to have avoided the long queue at the counter and reflected—after all, Bengaluru indeed is India’s IT capital, and technology has caught up.</p>.<p class="bodytext">As the machine processed the ticket, he was lost in memories of our childhood summer vacation. The announcement at the station marked the commencement of our joyful journey to our grandparents ‘odu veedu’ (tile-roofed house) near the vibrant paddy fields and the much-awaited fun-filled holidays. </p>.<p class="bodytext">“Prayanikare dayavittu gamanisi! Gaadi sankhye Ondu Aaru...” As the announcement repeated in Kannada, it now sounded like a panic moment. Soon he grabbed the ticket and sprinted to bid goodbye to his bestie but ended up right in front of the railway ticket checker. He confidently showed the freshly minted ticket, but to his disbelief, the checker began to write a trespassing penalty, rebuking him for trying to get away without a platform ticket. “This is the ticket,” he retorted in utter shock as he glanced at the ticket for the first time. No sooner did he start to read the tiny printed details of the token than he realised that the vending machine was a weighing machine! “Why on earth would anyone keep a weighing machine near the ticket counter?” he grumbled to himself.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I would say that my brother—a naïve, thoroughbred techie—thought the world had embraced the digital era as fast as his workplace. Adding to the dismay, he saw the train chugging away from the platform to its destination. Disheartened and speechless, he pulled out his wallet to remit the fine when the checker grabbed the token and closely examined it again, “Sir, the token shows zero kg!” seemingly realising that there was confusion. My brother’s face lit up as he explained the entire mix-up and profusely thanked the checker for his diligence in understanding the situation and his version of the truth.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Although he couldn’t bid goodbye to Arun, he felt happy that his friend did not miss the train and felt lighter at the achievement of Size Zero!</p>
