@Chennai Station
It was indeed a very touching
experience I had at Chennai station on the early morning hours on 15.08.2018. I
was on the way to Varanasi after completing the workshop at Kongu Engineering
college in Erode. I came to Chennai by Erode-Chennai Yercuad Express which
reached at 4 am on the said day. I was sitting in a bench in PF No. 10 as my
mobile phone was charging in a nearby power point. Around 5 am, an old man
around 75’s in decent dress asked me for a help and initially I ignored as I
was tired to attend anyone. My body was hesitate to function as I had a very disturbed
sleep past night.
He came close to me this time and
spoke to me in clear English something. It
was “Can you understand English”? I told him I can. I looked at him very carefully
as I realised that this old man really needs something from me. The man was wearing
a dark blue tshirt, a decent pants and having a small bag in his hand. From his
appearance I could make it out that he may be somewhere from northern India as
the fairly white skin, a graceful face with grey eyes and completely silver hair on head. His introduction
gave me a shock in my nerves. He told me.
“Son, I am 78 years old, I came
to Chennai for eye treatment. My eyes are affected with cataract and I couldnot
meet the doctor yesterday. I am waiting for my chance today/tomorrow. I am
having a severe aasmatic problem and my medicine is finished. (he showed me two
empty cassette of Cipla, which is normally use by aasma patients). I have only
Rs. 40 with me and I need Rs. 110 to get the medicine. I am yet to get money
and the Appollo medical counter in the station is not having the medicine I
needed although they gave me some first aid.”
At first, I gave him the required
amount. He didn’t go and he told me how his life met with this unfortunate end.
He started like this. “You know everyone celebrates Independence Day on 15th
August. This was this day (August 15), an incident happened which changed my
life upside down”. He continued his
narration. He has a son and a daughter. He originally belonged to Alwar in
Rajasthan, with great difficulty (financial problems) completed his MA in
Economics in 1961 and joined a college with a salary of Rs.35. Later he shifted
to Gurgaon and finally to Delhi. When his son was three years old, on the day
of 15 August his son was trying to fly kites in the terrace with other kids in
the apartment. In an attempt to catch the kite, two kids fell from the terrace
including his son. The other boy died instantly and his son had a sever injury
in his head. Surgeries were done many times, but he lost his memory and he is
become a mentally retarded individual. The treatment continued for years, there
was no improvement, other than losing money.
His daughter is married and
living in Rajasthan with her husband and inlaws. She is also a teacher. His all
savings were spent to treat his son but had little improvement in his son’s
condition. She supports him financially, but how long she can support and how
far? She has to be responsible to her family as well….I had nothing to say
(rather I didn’t get any words) as my thoughts were gripped with grief and
sorrow visualising the life of this old person with bitter experiences all
through his life.
He thanked me for helping him and
left the place.