<p>It was after sunset, and every passing auto, loaded with passengers on Mission Road, choked with rush-hour traffic, seemed to mock my helplessness. This was before the advent of ubiquitous cab-booking apps, and all my efforts to hail an auto, flailing my arms wildly, were in vain. With each passing moment and every failed attempt, my anxiety about how I would get home surged. Just then, an auto with a lady passenger slowed down beside me, and the woman waved, saying, “Come, you can share the auto with me. It is rush hour, and it is almost impossible to get one from this spot”. Her words were small packets of kindness that lifted my spirits at a time when I felt lost and helpless, standing at one of Bengaluru’s busiest roads.</p>.<p>It is a feeling beyond words when you are touched by kindness from strangers, especially when you least expect it.</p>.<p>Another incident that reinforced my faith in humanity, coincidentally, involves an auto again. Once my phone stopped working and I couldn’t pay the fare, the auto driver stunned me with his response. Instead of reacting harshly, he calmly asked me to note down his phone number and make the payment when my Internet signal was restored. His kind attitude transformed a potentially ugly situation and left me wondering if there is a local version of “honour among thieves” – perhaps “morals among auto drivers”?</p>.<p>I consider myself fortunate to have experienced unbelievable encounters with people well-versed in the language of kindness. On one occasion, I missed a couple of calls from an unknown number, and later, when I returned the call, it was answered by a gentleman requesting me to move my car parked alongside his bungalow’s boundary wall as the BBMP team was around to trim the overgrown trees ahead of the monsoon season. The most interesting part of the anecdote is that he had contacted the Road Transport Authority to trace my phone number using the licence plate number of my vehicle. When I reached the spot in a sweat about the thought of heavy branches leaving ugly dents on my car and simultaneously marvelling at the gentleman’s kindness, I found him waiting there along with the BBMP workers, and not a leaf had touched <br>the car. My words of gratitude seemed insignificant compared to his extraordinary efforts to save a stranger from a mishap.</p>.<p>Kind people carry the magic of the Greek King Midas; one that doesn’t leave you with gold, however their touch does something far more valuable. They rub off their kindness on others and start an ever-continuous chain of good deeds that grows with each human interaction. It is a debt of humanity, a gift of goodwill that one must repay by helping others and keeping the circle of kindness rolling.</p>
<p>It was after sunset, and every passing auto, loaded with passengers on Mission Road, choked with rush-hour traffic, seemed to mock my helplessness. This was before the advent of ubiquitous cab-booking apps, and all my efforts to hail an auto, flailing my arms wildly, were in vain. With each passing moment and every failed attempt, my anxiety about how I would get home surged. Just then, an auto with a lady passenger slowed down beside me, and the woman waved, saying, “Come, you can share the auto with me. It is rush hour, and it is almost impossible to get one from this spot”. Her words were small packets of kindness that lifted my spirits at a time when I felt lost and helpless, standing at one of Bengaluru’s busiest roads.</p>.<p>It is a feeling beyond words when you are touched by kindness from strangers, especially when you least expect it.</p>.<p>Another incident that reinforced my faith in humanity, coincidentally, involves an auto again. Once my phone stopped working and I couldn’t pay the fare, the auto driver stunned me with his response. Instead of reacting harshly, he calmly asked me to note down his phone number and make the payment when my Internet signal was restored. His kind attitude transformed a potentially ugly situation and left me wondering if there is a local version of “honour among thieves” – perhaps “morals among auto drivers”?</p>.<p>I consider myself fortunate to have experienced unbelievable encounters with people well-versed in the language of kindness. On one occasion, I missed a couple of calls from an unknown number, and later, when I returned the call, it was answered by a gentleman requesting me to move my car parked alongside his bungalow’s boundary wall as the BBMP team was around to trim the overgrown trees ahead of the monsoon season. The most interesting part of the anecdote is that he had contacted the Road Transport Authority to trace my phone number using the licence plate number of my vehicle. When I reached the spot in a sweat about the thought of heavy branches leaving ugly dents on my car and simultaneously marvelling at the gentleman’s kindness, I found him waiting there along with the BBMP workers, and not a leaf had touched <br>the car. My words of gratitude seemed insignificant compared to his extraordinary efforts to save a stranger from a mishap.</p>.<p>Kind people carry the magic of the Greek King Midas; one that doesn’t leave you with gold, however their touch does something far more valuable. They rub off their kindness on others and start an ever-continuous chain of good deeds that grows with each human interaction. It is a debt of humanity, a gift of goodwill that one must repay by helping others and keeping the circle of kindness rolling.</p>
