The quiet side of the road

I was enjoying my plate of papdi chaat with Vinod when a tall, young man—perhaps in his late twenties—approached us with a noticeably pale and uneasy expression. From the very first glance, something about his face struck me as unusual.

With a nervous sign, he went ahead.

“Bhai, my vehicle’s battery has drained out. I was wondering if you could lend a hand to give it a push and help me get it started.”

At first, I assumed he was referring to a two-wheeler—perhaps a bike or scooty—that had lost contact with the ignition. I politely directed him towards a nearby garage, just a hundred meters from where we stood, thinking that would be the most suitable solution.

He indicated toward a car parked at some distance from where we stood. By then, I had finished my chaat and disposed of the plate, while Vinod was still having the last few bites.

Assessing the situation, Vinod suggested the young man to find an additional person to assist me in this process. Pushing a car would likely require more strength than one person could manage alone.

The young man appeared conflicted—caught between urgency and uncertainty—as he turned to look for someone else. We too reiterated the need for another person before stepping in to assist.

He walked away, hesitantly, in search of another helping hand. We assumed he would eventually find someone and manage on his own. A few moments passed as we resumed our conversation.

It was then we noticed a young woman—likely in her late twenties—seated inside the very car he had pointed to, gently holding a small dog in her lap.

While the man wandered outside seeking assistance, she remained in the car, unmoved and disengaged. As she stayed inside, stroking the dog without a glance outside, it felt less like helplessness and more like chosen absence—decorated in calm.

The scene left us with an unsettling sense of silence. While he was urged to find another person to assist, not once did he ask her to step out, nor did she make any effort to offer help or even signal someone. This was no rented cab either. It left us wondering about the unspoken dynamics between them.

The situation began to carry a discomforting undertone, compelling us to quietly withdraw our attention from it. Based on what we observed, we assumed they might be a couple who had unexpectedly run into trouble.

To our surprise, the young man returned about five minutes later, informing us that he had found a nearby security guard who agreed to assist in getting the car started. This time, I decided not to let him return empty-handed.

I walked toward the car alongside the security guard. Just then, the woman stepped out, gently placed the small dog on the ground and let it walk beside her as she closed the car door and moved to a safer spot nearby.

It took us two to three minutes of coordinated effort—while the man remained at the wheel, managing the steering—to get the vehicle moving.

At last, by what felt like a stroke of grace, the engine roared back to life. The man offered a wave of gratitude from the driver’s seat, while the woman stood quietly, still and composed, at a distance.

We left the spot, and she quietly got back into the car. I returned to my place beside Vinod, just as the vehicle rolled past us.

From behind the closed window glass of the car, the girl gave a brief wave—though it seemed more a response to his silent prompting than her own desire!

All the while, a thought appeared in my mind: She sat there throughout—untouched by the urgency around her, holding the dog as if it were a shield from responsibility. Not once did her eyes scan for help, nor did her hands offer to ease the weight of the situation.

Her silence was entitlement, sculpted in stillness. While the man moved door to door seeking strangers, she remained perfectly still, as though discomfort was beneath her dignity.

What kind of world are we living in, where strangers on the street are the ones stepping forward to help, while those closest remain entangled in the calculus of comfort and social image!

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P.S

This account reflects a personal incident and the observations it led to. It is not intended to generalize or pass judgment based on gender.

The author believes in equality and shared responsibility and acknowledges that every situation carries nuances we may not fully understand. Our assumptions, however natural in the moment, may not always reflect the complete truth.