Thumbs up to hitchhiking

Just before the inauguration of the prestigious Vashi Railway Station in Navi Mumbai in early 90s, residents used an old bridge linking the area with the nearest station Mankhurd.
The Thane creek bridge, as it was called, witnessed corrosion cracks in merely two years. But people were forced to rely on it for years until a new rail bridge was constructed alongside.
I was among many to stand on the Vashi highway and hitchhike to Mankhurd. There were several goodhearted two-wheeler owners who would readily oblige. I had made several friends that way. One particular guy was a philosophical person who kept repeating the mantra “Time is the best healer.” One day I joked my time cannot heal as my watch had stopped because of cell trouble. Another one asked me for a loan of Rs 100 after picking me up for three days. But he did return it in a week.
One particular day, a white Ambassador car halted after I flashed a thumbs up sign. The one behind the wheels wore a red tie and looked like an executive. “Do come in,” he welcomed me. We had a friendly chat during the travel and when I was about to alight after thanking him, he said: “Gentleman, pass on Rs10.” I was surprised, but paid. The Times of India still runs a column called Citylights where we used to be paid Rs75 for a piece those days. As soon as I entered the office, I filed a Citylight item about the gentleman and got Rs75. Smart, right?

Three tricksters at the gate

There were three stout Asians when I opened the door.
“Sir, we are from a charity organization. Any donation is welcome,” they pleaded.
I generally do not entertain such people, but felt I should offer something. “An unexperimented life is not worth it,” Socrates’ words echoed in this journalist’s mind. Let me check out how genuine they are, I told myself. After all, there is nothing worth robbing in my house and Sharjah is known to be a very safe place.
“I give you Dhs10,” I said, ignoring caution signals from my mind.
“Water please,” they entered my home.
“It is for a noble cause. We are helping poor people,” said one.
“Ok. I will give double the promised amount,” I offered.
After sipping water, they said, “Pay Dhs100.”
“One minute,” I replied and went to the nearby room keeping an eye on them. I picked up my mobile, and spoke in my mother tongue loudly and purposely mentioned “three people” in English.
“Sit, sit, what were you saying?” I asked them.
“Thank you, sir,” they barged out in a hurry thinking I had alerted someone.
PS: Never open the gate to a stranger.

RATtled...

Thought I should share with my friends this story I wrote some time back in our Panorama magazine...You may like reading it...