Among strangers

Randolph Turner gets lost and found in Delhi

"Do you want me to take you somewhere for shopping?" with these words my colleagues and I begin a 48-hour journey of association with a stranger in Delhi.

He rides an autorickshaw (tuk-tuk), one of the venerable people movers of the city. There is something about the way he speaks that seems to say that he is genuinely offering help even though it means a fare for him. This is different from other encounters we have had while walking around looking clueless.

We say, "We need food". He takes us to a place and waits, then through the chaotic traffic of Delhi. Horns blaring, brakes squealing, near misses with only the protection of God and the genius of his driving he takes us to tourist places to shop.

I am only a tag-along as I had been in a gentle fatherly way scolded by the hosts and joint group leaders "Randolph take rest, leave the work, get out of the hostel, today is a free day go shopping".

Into Delhi 

My colleagues say to PM "we want local stuff, good but cheap, where the local people buy". PM says "I will take

 you to where only local people shop". My gut says "hmmm" but my spirit says something else; PM exudes life, so we went.

Off the beaten track, through narrow lanes and near misses into places where there is a visible decline in the shape of the community to this local shop. Selections are made, some need to be altered, I even buy cloth to make the top of a kurtha.

A tailor is brought in, measurements made, payments taken. PM says "Let's go, the kurthas will be made somewhere else. I will come back for you at the hostel at 6pm and take you back here to collect your altered cloths".

Trust, trust. So off we go to another side of the community into a compound filled with people and animals into the workshop of a tailor. He takes my measurements and then says, you can't get it today. Tomorrow.

Trust in the human capacity, and one's first encounter with each other. It does not always work out.

PM comes back for us, horns, screeching brakes, near misses again, as darkness falls on Delhi.

Then on the journey to collect the rickshaw breaks down.

We stop at the roadside, leave it at a mechanic and then PM said "come let's walk".

We walk through crowds, animals, dust, dirt and the noise of Delhi as evening takes hold back to the first shop. The altered garments are collected, then PM says, "Come to my home, have tea". Hmmm.

But we go, a wide open space, very little light and within seconds we are surrounded by people who have drifted out of the darkness. He sits us down, introduces us to his wife, gives us a cup of tea saying "for you the tea is made with milk not water, I protect your stomach".

We drink, keeping our thoughts to ourselves, and I keep wondering at the biblical dimensions of what we are encountering.

How often we forget hospitality to those who share a common humanity with us irrespective of who they are; especially when the games of power and domination, driven by resentment and history are in full flight. May God forgive us.

The rickshaw fixed, we walk back to the mechanic with PM accompanied by his son and were then taken back to the hostel.

The following day he takes us back to the compound to collect work from the tailor. PM insists on making a gift to us and later that night brings one garment that had not been finished.

Later, I share our encounter with our local hosts and co-leaders. Concerned looks flash across their faces as the story progresses.

At the end they quietly affirm PM's sense of community and humanity. One remarked "there are still good people around". For this we give thanks; there still remains hope for humanity across cultures, religions, ideologies.

Incidentally PM is of Muslim heritage. Our recognition of this came later – we saw a fellow human being all the way through who represented one of the finest examples of what it means to be human.

His sharp wit and commentary on life in India spoke to his inner spirit. It was an honour to have met him for 48 hours and maybe the privilege might exist again.

But for now I would simply say to PM, his family and his community and his family As-Salaam Alaikum, Peace be upon you. May Allah bless and watch over you.