Travelling alone as a tourist in Berlin, I was blundering about happily from one museum to another and from one art gallery to the next, ticking them off on the pamphlets my hotel had provided. I had some sort of day-pass which enabled me to travel on buses and trains without the strain of handling the local currency and trying to make the ticket sellers understand where I wanted to go. And that is what got me into trouble. I should have asked someone.
Halfway through my programme, having stopped frequently for cups of hot chocolate and delicious bakery products I pressed on to my next place of interest.
At some point I realised I was travelling away from the little museum which housed the letters of some famous general I had decided I had to see. I leaned across to a fellow passenger in the bus and pointed to my pamphlet. I spread my hands in the universal gesture of wanting to know where it was. How was I to get there? The gentleman wanted to help and told me in sign language that I had to alight as soon as possible because I had overshot my destination.
I smiled and tried to look enlightened as I stood up and prepared to jump off. As I left the bus a German woman of my own age followed me from the bus. “Excuse me, where exactly do you wish to go?” The words were like heavenly music. I turned to her with relief and described my predicament. As my guru for the hour explained what I had to do to correct my direction of travel, I looked closely at her. Was she a confidence trickster? What had prompted her to go out of her way for a stranger?
“You’re Indian aren’t you?” Since I was dressed in a neutral sort of fashion with no markers I wondered how she had identified me. “Yes, I am Indian,” I replied. “Ah I knew it when I saw your earrings—they are navaratnas; I have a pair myself.”
She went on to say that she was married to an Indian musician and had made the link between my place of origin and my jewellery. She drew a little map for me and came all the way to the next bus stop to make sure that I boarded a vehicle going in the right direction. I can never put on those earrings without remembering that kind woman whose name I forgot to ask.
Mini Krishnan
Email: minioup@gmail.com