May 15, 2011
As I walked out of the class with my laptop and attendance register in hand, the charger cord suddenly slipped. In trying to balance and hold everything, I had to let go of something I guess and so the cord fell on the ground from my hand. As I stood for a moment deciding how to pick it up, I noticed the attender sitting in his place and watching me, yet making no move to help. Students filing out behind me came upon the scene, with "Mam…. We would have…" etc., and the issue was over.
It was eight thirty in the evening and I had been taking an evening class after a whole day’s work. As I drove home that evening, my mind was filled with sad thoughts and the vision of the attender just not bothering to assist me. My husband needs to be told, I thought, he would corroborate with my feelings. My mind went out to the times when unofficially I had helped the young man in so many ways, over nearly ten years, because that’s how long I had known him. Another thought of not saying anything to my husband over an issue that was not really important and spoiling an already short evening, occurred as I passed the Cantonment Station.
Suddenly a new thought came to me. I had forgotten to take my cell phone with me and it was still at home. My desk phone was out of order and there was no way for my husband to contact me. Having had to talk over some small issues with the students who followed me to my cabin, had delayed me a little more and I was certainly driving home later than usual. Would my husband be worried? Oh yes, I better hurry, I thought.
On the junction of Clarks’ and pottery roads, was a vendor with a truck load of mangoes. Stopping to buy, I knew that I was really running late and my husband would be certainly worried. Just as the attender in the office had not bothered, perhaps my husband also would not be bothered, I thought. Perhaps he would be busy with the news on TV or something to notice that I was late. Buying mangoes, though with a guilty conscience, I drove home.
Would my husband be worried about me or not? Yes or no? As I turned onto our street, from a distance, I could see my husband’s striped tee shirt as he stood on the road with the gate wide open, waiting anxiously for me. Why had I bothered about who had or had not helped me? Who really mattered was there! And he had been there all the while that I had been skeptical about him! As I reversed into my portico I thanked the Lord for his angels on earth who make life worth living!