An Encounter with Triple B

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
While returning late in the evening from Dwarka (Delhi), a place i am not familiar with, I met this girl who touched my heart in many ways.

Submitted: August 10, 2017

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Submitted: August 10, 2017



It was an uneventful day.  I was returning late in the evening from Dwarka, a place I am not very familiar with.  It was the first time that I had gone to that part of the city alone.  On previous occasions I had been driven there.  But as I don’t like to be dependent on anybody, this time I decided to go on my own.  I travelled by Metro for two reasons; one, it saves money as well as time, and secondly, I do not know the way to Dwarka so it didn’t make sense to drive down to Dwarka.  Moreover, going by a car meant spending extra money.

I had reached Dwarka on time, using two different modes of transportation.  My parents’ house where I had to go is about three kilometres from Dwarka Sector10 Metro station.  My parents don’t live there; the property is unoccupied.  Earlier it had been given  on rent to a lawyer and making him leave was an uphill task.  After requesting him for several months, we had to take the help of another lawyer to drive away ‘this lawyer’ from our house.

I had gone there as there was some seepage problem in our flat that needed to be fixed causing inconvenience to those residing below.  The president and a member of the building society and a plumber accompanied me.  After thorough inspection by the plumber and a half-an-hour long discussion, it was found that the cause of seepage was the flat above ours. 

The domineering president, who was not letting anybody speak, including the plumber, refused to go and talk to the owner of that flat as he said tends to become abusive.  I looked at him smilingly and asked if the task was done, I could lock the door and leave.  It was already six in the evening and had gotten dark due to winter.

I decided to take a rickshaw and go back to the Metro station but they the rates were unreasonable.  Instead, I boarded a mini-bus to Uttam Nagar Metro station.  I had no idea about the route it would take but the presence of so many people gave me comfort.  I asked the conductor how much time it would take to reach the station.  His reply was that it would take about a half-an-hour. 

The bus was chock-a-block with passengers.  Most of them were quiet obviously tired after working throughout the day.  The only noises that were heard were either of the conductor soliciting passengers or honking of the horns of motor vehicles on the road.

I requested the conductor to inform me when the bus reached the Metro station.  Even after half-an-hour when I didn’t hear from him.  I got slightly agitated as there were only a few passengers left.  I asked one of them how far the Metro station was.  She gave a blank look.  May be, she didn’t understand me.  Then I asked another passenger and he was also unresponsive.  I felt the attitude of the people weird. 

Suddenly a young girl who was sitting opposite me and had overheard me broke into a smile and asked if I was new to the city.  I said: “No, I am not new to the city.  I am new to this part.”  She said that she had to get off at the same station.  “Don’t worry, I will tell you when we reach there.  It will take another five-ten minutes.”

Those who frequently travel by bus know that many a time drivers will not drop you at the designated stand.  They would ask you to get off earlier to earn a few more bucks.  Out driver dropped us at the Uttam Nagar traffic signal and when I objected to it, he said that the Metro station was just across the road.  But in that vehicular chaos, I could not see it.

The girl who was my fellow passenger offered to help.  As there was heavy traffic, she held my hand and helped me across the road.  I was simply touched by this gesture of hers.  We were strangers to each other, yet she was concerned about me.  Instead of looking at the traffic coming from both directions, I was looking at her as we crossed. 

After we reached the other side, she had to go straight but instead of doing so, she came with me up to the station.  I think she was concerned that I might get lost.  The station was about just about 150 metres from where we were; she could have just given me directions and left but she was different.

As we were walking, I asked her if she was a student.  She told me that she was pursuing a B.A. (Pass) course through distance education.  I asked: “Why have you not joined a regular college?”  She said: “My mother did not let me join.”  After a pause, she said: “Actually, I suffer from a disease and she doesn’t want me to put in too much labour.”  “What disease?” was my obvious question. 

At first, she hesitated and didn’t want to say anything.  On my insistence, she agreed to disclose the name and said with a bigger smile than the one she had flashed in the bus, “Cancer.”  I was taken aback and enquired which part of her body was affected.  “It is throat cancer.”  I could not believe that a girl having such a mellifluous voice could have any problem with her throat. 

She said that she had been operated and was under medication.  I wanted to know more about her but before I could say anything, she said, “Here comes the station!”  I looked into her deep black eyes and said: “I am sure you will be fine soon.  You are such a nice soul.”  She thanked me and moved on.  There wasn’t a trace of fear in her; she seemed to be a healthy looking girl with so much vigour for life. 

As I got on the escalator to reach the concourse of the Metro station, I realized I had forgotten to ask her name.  “What could be the name of this gentle soul; is it some traditional or  modern name; has much thought been given while giving her a name; has the name must have some deeper meaning?”  Not getting any answers to my questions, I decided to give her a quirky name, Triple B standing for Brave, Benevolent and Beautiful.



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