More Real Life Stories on Human Values

A very strange incident happened to me on 13^th of April’13 which could best be described as partly of human values like honesty, sincerity and work ethics and partly a miracle. I post the incident in Facebook on 13^th itself. My friend Indra also circulated my real life story through e-mail to some of my friends. Since then some of my friends have also written to me describing similar incidents as happened to their own life. I thought it prudent to reproduce them in my Blog for my other friends as well. Meanwhile my daughter Sudeshna Sengupta (Rini) who stays in USA has also post an article on human values in Facebook which of course, is in a different platform altogether.

From Sudeshna “Rini” Sengupta:

 Miracles do happen every now and then – One Father Sebastian – a 41 year old Catholic Priest from Kottayam donated one kidney to one Rasad Mahammed – a 30 years old Muslim from Alappuzha! Except human bondage their only other connection was sitting next to each other in a Kerala State Transport Corporation’s bus on their way to Kochi!  (http://m.rediff.com/news/slide-show/slide-show-1-heartwarming-catholic-priest-donates-kidney-to-muslim-man/20130418.htm )

From Subhas C Majumder:

One circa, 1970 I went to Baltimore, a pretty rough place, was much rougher in those years.  I took a taxi to go to a house sometime after dusk.  I was still quite new and especially much less exposed to many humongous looking black folks south of our border. The driver was, as expected a huge black guy, heavy baritone voice. I was quite scared, to tell the truth, and was sitting pretty quiet.

As soon as we reached the destination, I quickly paid my bill, and just about jumped out of cab in utter relief. As I was nearly running away, I hear this baritone voice calling me back, 'sir, you left your camera here'.   It was an expensive camera, considering my resources then, for sure. 

In a moment my expression for blacks took a 180 degree turn. 

One circa 1977, I went to pay my phone bill to the phone office.  I took out my wallet, pulled out a single blank check, wrote the payment, submitted at the wicket, and left, not realizing I left the wallet on the table I used. 

Half an hour later, when I reached home, there was already a phone message for me, explaining that my wallet has been deposited by a stranger in that office, now to be picked up by me.  Later I got my wallet back, not a thing missing.

From Tapan Kumar Ray:

I remember a similar incident at Puri station years back in 1981. Tickets during those days were small little hard stuff. Names etc. of the passengers were written on the reverse side of the tickets. While getting out of the station after arrival at Puri I handed the return tickets to the staff at the gate and realised my mistake while checking the tickets in the morning on our day of return. I then rushed to the station and approached the station master who happened to be a Tamil gentleman. He kept me waiting for a couple of hours and kept himself busy with other works. I thought he was expecting 'lubricant for his palm'. 

To my utter surprise I found a lower grade employee handing over all the tickets in tact to the station master. Before the tickets were handed over to me the Station Master asked me to prove my identity. Alas! voter cards were not in existence those days. I had some visiting cards of my company. As an acknowledgement of his services I offered him a hundred rupee note. 

The gentleman was still polite and explained to me the process of recovering such tickets with punching machines. He asked someone to buy sweets from a road side shop and handed over the entire quantity to me along with our return tickets.

I still remember that station master of Puri Station. 

From Indrajit Bhowmick:

I had a similar experience here in Kuwait (around 1988) when I got cash from a customer for the sale of a PC (quite expensive then) and put it in the pocket of my jacket.
 

When I remembered about the money a few weeks later, the suit was given to the laundry just the day before. We rushed to the laundry, and there was a young fellow there who smiled and said he had found the money and secretly kept the money with him without telling any of his colleagues lest they forced him to usurp it. 
 
We felt extremely grateful. The guy would not accept any reward or gift from us. We eventually presented him with a small tape recorder/radio set, as far as I can remember, as a token of our gratitude.