Courtesy can be confusing
"Do you guys want a lift?" I asked the pair of young adults walking frantically while fiddling with their smartphones. Without paying much attention they responded unanimously, "No, thank you". I expected that response as it was still dark at 5 am on a Sunday morning in Jan on a deserted residential street in south Chennai and I was in the front seat of a Uber cab that pulled close to them uninvited.
"Well, I am going to the same place where you are headed", I offered again in a polite and friendly tone. The lady took one close look at me and then said something to the man next to her and this time they gave a unanimous, "Yes, please!". She probably noticed all three of us were wearing Chennai Marathon Olive green T-Shirts and rightly assumed that I was heading to the starting point.
I anticipated a mad rush with just-in-time bookers and booked my cab the previous night itself. There was no option to book a shared ride. So, with a bit of guilt, I booked a solo ride. When I saw an opportunity to fill the back seats I did not think twice nor felt the need to check with the driver either to offer a lift. I guess my compassion towards fellow runners may have played a role there!
I was lucky as the driver too seemed courteous and understanding. Actually, he asked if we could pick-up one more person that he spotted few yards in front of us probably in the same boat as the other two we just picked up. So, we did. But, only after the initial confusion that unexpected courteousness creates these days!
The story was a bit different on the return journey though. After my wonderful 10 km run and a yummy complimentary breakfast post the finish line I dragged myself back to the main road to get a cab or bus back home. Alas, the traffic was still restricted as a few thousand forced corporate participants were still on the road being cajoled by volunteers to complete the marathon by walking or crawling!
I waited with painful patience and cramps on my left calf muscle for a cab with not much luck. In-spite of me waving for a lift, I saw many cabs and auto-rickshaws passing by ignoring me. Most of them had just one or two passengers and all in that Olive green T-shirt of the day. It was bright daylight by now and one could easily spot a triumphant marathoner (with the medal still hanging on the neck) on the road; visibly tired and desperately seeking a lift. I wondered what ever happened to human courtesy and compassion that was in the air earlier?
I started walking slowly and caught up with an auto rickshaw waiting for green signal at a traffic light. The lonely passenger in a sweaty Olive Green T was engrossed in his smartphone when I approached him. "Can I get a drop at the next bus stand?", I asked. My frail voice did not seem to invoke sympathy or courtesy as he refused to even acknowledge my presence!
But, I noticed the driver was feeling a bit uncomfortable and I could almost hear his mind-voice, "I don't mind but it's the paying passenger's call". That was enough for me command for courtesy from the paying passenger. He reluctantly mumbled, "Well, I don't mind as long as the driver is ok with it!". What a confusion I thought and made my way inside the auto compelling the passenger to give some space! I could see a smirky grin on the driver's face, so all was well. I got down at the next junction where the traffic was flowing unrestricted. If only, human courtesy can do the same, flow both ways without any confusion and restrictions the world would become one big happy and caring community!
"Well, I am going to the same place where you are headed", I offered again in a polite and friendly tone. The lady took one close look at me and then said something to the man next to her and this time they gave a unanimous, "Yes, please!". She probably noticed all three of us were wearing Chennai Marathon Olive green T-Shirts and rightly assumed that I was heading to the starting point.
I anticipated a mad rush with just-in-time bookers and booked my cab the previous night itself. There was no option to book a shared ride. So, with a bit of guilt, I booked a solo ride. When I saw an opportunity to fill the back seats I did not think twice nor felt the need to check with the driver either to offer a lift. I guess my compassion towards fellow runners may have played a role there!
I was lucky as the driver too seemed courteous and understanding. Actually, he asked if we could pick-up one more person that he spotted few yards in front of us probably in the same boat as the other two we just picked up. So, we did. But, only after the initial confusion that unexpected courteousness creates these days!
The story was a bit different on the return journey though. After my wonderful 10 km run and a yummy complimentary breakfast post the finish line I dragged myself back to the main road to get a cab or bus back home. Alas, the traffic was still restricted as a few thousand forced corporate participants were still on the road being cajoled by volunteers to complete the marathon by walking or crawling!
I waited with painful patience and cramps on my left calf muscle for a cab with not much luck. In-spite of me waving for a lift, I saw many cabs and auto-rickshaws passing by ignoring me. Most of them had just one or two passengers and all in that Olive green T-shirt of the day. It was bright daylight by now and one could easily spot a triumphant marathoner (with the medal still hanging on the neck) on the road; visibly tired and desperately seeking a lift. I wondered what ever happened to human courtesy and compassion that was in the air earlier?
I started walking slowly and caught up with an auto rickshaw waiting for green signal at a traffic light. The lonely passenger in a sweaty Olive Green T was engrossed in his smartphone when I approached him. "Can I get a drop at the next bus stand?", I asked. My frail voice did not seem to invoke sympathy or courtesy as he refused to even acknowledge my presence!
But, I noticed the driver was feeling a bit uncomfortable and I could almost hear his mind-voice, "I don't mind but it's the paying passenger's call". That was enough for me command for courtesy from the paying passenger. He reluctantly mumbled, "Well, I don't mind as long as the driver is ok with it!". What a confusion I thought and made my way inside the auto compelling the passenger to give some space! I could see a smirky grin on the driver's face, so all was well. I got down at the next junction where the traffic was flowing unrestricted. If only, human courtesy can do the same, flow both ways without any confusion and restrictions the world would become one big happy and caring community!
