The train was not crowded for a Tuesday morning. Velachery station was next and a few minutes away. I was sitting on a seat near the door and noticed the commotion behind me. A man had fainted and the passengers clamoured to make him lie down.
I moved towards him.
He was about thirty-five years old, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans.
“Please! Make way... I am a doctor. Let me take a look at him!” I said.
I checked his pulse. He was still conscious, breathing irregularly and looking dazed. Small beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
“Do you feel any pain in your chest?”
“No,” he nodded.
“Have you ever fainted before?”
“Did you eat this morning?”
“No,” he nodded again.
“Okay... Don't worry. This might just be a low sugar situation. Drink this...”
I handed him a bottle of Fanta I had with me.
“Your body needs sugar right now... You are very likely running low on blood sugar.”
The train was approaching the station. He sat up and had a few gulps of the Fanta. He seemed to feel better.
“Well... This is my stop. I will be getting down. Are you feeling better?”
“Get something to eat, alright?”
The train stopped. I joined the other passengers who got down at that station. I would have just taken a few steps when I heard him calling me.
“I didn't get to thank you...”
It was him.
“That's alright... I am glad I could help!”
“I am taking your advice and getting some breakfast. Would you care to join me, if you don't mind?”
“No, I have an appointment...”
I hesitated, looking at my watch. I still had forty minutes before my meeting with my insurance agent.
“On second thoughts... Let's go. There is a restaurant right outside the station,” I said.
The man appeared visibly pleased that I agreed.
We reached the restaurant. He ordered a masala dosa and I had coffee. We talked about each other. He told me that he was looking for a job and hadn't found one in the last two months.
The waiter brought the bill. I reached for my wallet and was shocked to discover that it was missing.
“Are you looking for this?”
He placed my wallet in front of me.
“I am sorry! I won't steal... ever again!”
W e were driving home after I picked up my sons from violin class. The underground tunneling work for the Metro Rail had made our drive home...
I glanced at my watch. Coach Singh was still answering a question from a reporter from The Sydney Morning Herald. The press conference shou...
Image Credit: Crevasse by Barrie Sutcliffe via Flickr T he train stopped at Jolarpettai station. Sundaram collected his ba...
M y first memory of Madras is from the year 1979. I was 4 years old. I still vividly remember walking along with my maternal grandfather, mo...
S undaram sat in the backseat and looked outside his car window. The city had changed so much in the last twenty years. He had come to India...
Do you want to win a Free EBook? It is very easy! Send me an idea, theme, logline or title of my 50th short story. You can send your ideas...