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Mysuru from Bengaluru ......... continued part 3 :)

Continuing from Mysuru from Bengaluru


I walked on the footpath of Mysuru, not to catch the lights and poms of the city but, to search for a Mechanic to fix the battery of my car. The city of lights indeed reminded me of Paris. I wondered as to what the current generation enjoyed more - a virtual trip to Paris or a street walk during Mysuru Dasara. I informed mini-me that I would look for help for not more than an hour. Such conversations with mini-me helped me get away from the crowd and lights of the festival. I had walked around 2 Kms.

 

On one corner of the road junction, I noticed some policemen on their bikes exchanging talks. I bumped straight into them. I inquired as to where I could find some help to get my car to jump start. The very first question was whether I was alone and that there was no man with me. To which I responded that I was accompanied by some more in the car, all females. I was looked upon like an alien. I probed again to get information on finding help. They pointed me to a lane in front of them and added that it was a lane of Muslims' garages. I thanked them and stepped into the directed lane. One of them shouted that it was not safe for me to get into that lane alone. I told them that I had no other choice and that I would take care of myself.

 

I wanted to pat myself and say ‘all zzz well.’ But I really could not do that. The aloof, dark lane had popped my heart into my fists against my desire to wear it on my sleeves. Mini-me encouraged me with her words. Not everyone gets to test and certify a lane for “India of my dreams.” My eyes searched for human presence amidst the shuttered garages. At a certain distance, I spotted around five men. They were sitting on the steps in front of a closed shop. A couple of heads flaunted kufis. My heart now wanted to take a U-turn. I held my phone to my ears as though I was on a call and walked to them.

 

I explained the situation and asked if I could get help. Hard was their answer. Most garage workers had been on a vacation trip. I thanked them and moved ahead. One of the kafis guys interrupted. He insisted on my return. He was sure that I would not get any help. By then, my belief was running on a negative scale. However, I wanted to try my luck. I informed him the same. I didn’t know what went on his mind, he stopped me. He dialed on his basic phone.

 

His typical Hindi conversation on the call scared me a little. “There is a lady here. She is all alone. She is stuck with her people in the car. Blah blah blah.” Mini-me nudged, “I agree at this point,  putting your legs on run is out of the question, but running on the brain is allowed.” I became alert. I went aside to make a call. At that very moment, the police who had warned me earlier had come in search of me on his bike. It was almost half an hour since I had been into the lane. My heart jumped with joy. It had no boundaries. By then, my phone also rang. I put the police guy on hold and picked the phone. I had a quick conversation. When I hung the phone, my heart was flying all over.

 

The police inquired if I managed to get help. By then, the kafis guy had arranged for a mechanic. My heart was on cloud nine. I took the kafis guy's number and thanked both of them. I informed them that help had been arranged. Both were relieved. The police guy asked me to quickly move out of the lane. He then took a U-turn. I walked my way back.


 ............................. to be continued

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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