Living in Minnesota – Sam and Sameer

Well, it happened last evening, right in the parking lot of Cub Foods. The thing that makes for one of the most annoying and equally embarrassing moments in life – a nice big car that all of a sudden, just would not start. With every try, the engine seemed deader than before, taking my hopes of reviving my beloved Pathfinder anytime soon. People flurried past into their vehicles trying to escape the wind, some dropping a curious glance at my direction, making me all the more cantankerous inside. Deep breaths darling, deep breaths.

Talking to the car does help – I knew the battery was fine; the lights worked well and even the tiny rear wiper did its best to convince me how the fiasco was not its fault. And yet as I turned the key, there was nothing but silence surrounding me. With the winters looming lazily on the horizon, the temperature began to dip and it was definitely time to call for help. A friend arrived within seconds followed by his wife who had the all important jump start cables in her car. I did not have the heart to mention the emergency jump start kit that I had just tried on the Pathfinder, and without any success. After another simple and short failed attempt, it was decided that towing seemed to be the best possible option.  

While I dialed road side assistance, a friendly stranger pulled-up in front to help as best as he could. So there was my beauty, sitting in the midst of friends familiar and unknown, just as I was. Was I really in a country where I had just set my foot in? The chill in the air was, of course, a different matter. The minutes passed slowly before road side assistance came for the rescue and an upbeat one-man-crew (who I am going to call Sam) jumped out of the truck.

There was water, since it had been raining for the entire day, and oil from many contributing cars including mine that made one of the most detestable mixtures right under where my once reliable Pathfinder stood. Without much ado, Sam got to work and we designated ourselves to watching him with a mix of curiosity in various degrees as he searched under the hood for the problem. And before I could even think of a reaction, he slid right under the dead machine, oil, water, et all knocking his range right to the problem. The starter! Of course, it had to be the starter. I turned the ignition with a silent prayer in my heart and voila! my comatose partner roared back to life again.

I thanked them all profusely, especially Sam who did not really have to have all the oil that he did on his face. As I drove back to my warmer quarters, another image flashed across my mind. Not from the United States of America but from my very own Faridabad in Haryana (in India for sure). As I passed a stranded car on a bitterly cold foggy December night there last year, I saw a young man (who I am going to call Sameer) holding a torch between his teeth while his hands worked deftly under an SUV trying to bring it back to life again. You could say Sameer was doing it for the money and yet I would not agree completely. In the few seconds it took me to selfishly pass by, I sensed the energy emanating from Sameer that prompted him to thwart the cold which I knew was good enough to numb him within a few minutes. I can't call it anything else except dedication.

When I come to think of it, I really do not see all that difference between Sam and Sameer and I cannot help but wonder - when there isn't much difference, why does the latter have to pay nearly sixty times to get what the former does for a dollar? You know what I mean, right?