The day we learn to allow an ambulance to pass through in traffic, might be the first step toward being a truly responsible society." A simple observation posted by actor Boman Irani on a social networking site, but it rings so true.
"It is ridiculous how cars cut through and have the audacity to signal to the ambulance to let them pass instead!" he writes.
I have observed this too. On more occasions than I'd like to recall. Another instance of that awful Indian malaise : "Me First". "My work done first, so I will jump the queue; my need to see the movie or the match most urgent, so I will buy tickets in black; my presence at an event most important, so I will demand front row seats", and so on and so forth.
Living in big Indian cities, we are surrounded by so many moments of every day thoughtlessness and inconsideration that we have ceased to notice them as anything but the norm.
Recently on a trip to Europe, I found myself recording everyday quotidian act of consideration and thoughtfulness because they came as such a pleasant surprise.
"Checkout clerk in a supermarket runs after her customer in pouring rain to return his umbrella," I had noted during an afternoon of shopping in Amsterdam.
This was pleasant enough, more so because it was done as a matter of course, or duty, with no expectation of gratitude.
That evening, there was a more edifying example of graciousness. Seated at a street side cafe, I noticed two young girls on the table besides me, collect their belongings and make a dash for it without finishing their dessert, weaving their way in and out of the jostling crowds, in an attempt to get lost - before paying their bill.
"You've lost your customers," I smile to the young waiter, indicating the empty chairs. "Ah, they are old customers. They will be back," he shrugs. So much for the cafe vigilante in me.
The next morning, at the local version of Starbucks, a young man notices my clumsiness while trying to pick up a bottle of juice from the stand and waits till I complete my order, even though the girl at the counter waves to him to jump the queue before me. He is young, trendy, a hipster, but he bends down and helps me get the items I require.
People leave money for daily newspapers in the bowl after they take a copy. No one steals the coins when they add them up.
In New York, the biggest revelation is the chivalry of inner city black people. Unable to swipe myself through the subway turnstile, one evening, the middle-aged, swarthy black man behind me swipes me in with his ticket.
Then he goes back to the machine to get himself another ticket. When I meet him at the door at the other side, he is surprised that I have waited to pay him back. He refuses to take the money and waives me away. He does not look like a rich man. And he does this in a city where time is money.
Throughout my stay in America the kindness of black people is a liet motif. "They see you as one of them," say some of my NYC friends.
"Obviously you've met the few exceptions," say others.
I believe kindness, consideration and graciousness are not the monopoly of any class, community or type of person.
Which is why I wonder why, on the streets of Mumbai such few motorists allow ambulances to pass through.
Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer malavikasangghvi@hotmail.com
