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Sunday, February 12, 2012

The Gentleman-Fiction of the week-24



The Gentleman


Until I reached Hetauda the seat next to me was unoccupied, might be due to lack of passengers. But when I crossed Hetauda, one person got in the bus, in a hurry. He sat in the seat next to me. In his initiative we introduced each other and became co-passenger very quickly.
We started talking. I was really impressed by the point of view of that newly introduced friend. He gave me long and interesting details of those who were engaged in corruption and also with the proof. On the basis of his talking and proof about corruption I drew a conclusion immediately that this person is very honest.
His honesty made me regret on myself for being selfish. Being highly educated my effort was so less to contribute something for the nation. I thought it would have been better if I had provided free tutoring to the students.  Being embarrassed, I carefully tried not to bring it up while talking. I still remember what he said during the conversation very clearly. I still remember the lights of truth and confidence in his eyes. With full confidence he had said “Joint efforts of the youths like us can change the face of the country by alleviating the terrible poverty.”
 
I was also happy to get such a honest person by me, as it was a night bus, and it would mean I could catch some sleep without worrying about my luggage or theft. I felt the journey up to Kathmandu in that night bus would be safe. At about midnight, our bus reached Narayanghat and stopped for a while to drop some passengers off. The stopping of the bus woke me up. I looked up immediately to the seat next  to me. My new friend was not there in his seat.
At first I got little upset as he didn’t even tell me goodbye when he left. I became little confused too. I recalled he had told me that he was going all the way to Kathmandu.  As I get frequent headaches, I tried to open my bag to get the medicine. I couldn’t find my bag. I did not see my bag which was under my seat. I yelled- hey, where is my bag? Has someone seen my bag?  
The helper of the bus asked me surprisingly ‘what type of bag……..? Was that blue color? Unlocked……..? The bag under your seat? Was that yours?’
The helper said again ‘That bag…………the man who was sitting next to you took it. When he was getting off in Bharatpur I saw the bag in his hand. He was in a hurry. I assumed that was his bag, and also could not suspect him because you both looked very close friends from the way you were talking. I thought you knew each other.
I had no words to say him. I was speechless. Seeing me in such a situation the helper asked me ‘was he not your friend, really? For sure?’ Didn’t you know each other?’
I replied reluctantly- no, I don’t know him.


Bishwa Raj Adhikari 

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