Risky

Is it riskier in Bengaluru to para-sail or to talk to a stranger. No, I am not comparing apples and oranges. This is a conscious comparison of two happenings that I have been afraid of experiencing.

Many would say it is riskier to para-sail. I have heard a lot of friends even say that one should not take up any adventure sport in India.

But I honestly think it would be riskier to talk to a stranger. I have seen quite a handful of instances over the past month on my way to and from work, of couples (old and young) trying to catch attention of the passersby and trying to communicate that they want money to go home. 

I resist (with difficulty ofcourse) the nudge from within to go and talk to them and listen to their story because the voice of my well-read middle class mother keeps ringing in the depths of my ear-drums reminding me of all the stories ever, of empathetic strangers being fooled by clever fraudsters.

I walk past them as if they did not exist. As if there was nothing in their place but air. And as I walk, my conscience pricks. What if they were not cheats? What if they were normal people who just got stolen of their belongings and got stranded in an unknown place, wanting to go home?

But what could I possibly do. I am caught between being safe and being human.