“Oh! Shit! Not this guy again” muttered Vasu masking his face with a handkerchief and pretended to be far asleep. “The first day when this stranger wished me luck, all my photographs were bad, I lost my tripod, the weather was bad and to crown it all I was pulled over by the Army men. And I had a hard time convincing them I was a photographer who came there as a mere tourist and not as a spy. Lord! Please take me back safe to Chennai” Vasu said to himself. So scenic and pleasant was Kashmir that one would pay ten times the fare of bus ticket to get a window seat and to get immersed in the aesthetic beauty of her. But Vasu pretended like a soporific introvert in the bus, while others were marveled at the mountains nestled on the arms of mother nature. The cool breeze, as a result of the previous night’s torrential rain, was leaving slight kisses on his cheeks. Soon Vasu cuddled up in his seat and fell asleep.
“Hello Sir!” cried a man who was in his 40s, dressed in a suit with a muffler and wore sport-shoes. Vasu woke up to his greetings, and found the man whom he was trying to avoid sitting next to him.
“Have your photographs come out well?”
“Yes! Very well” Vasu said trying hard to pull his lips to smile.
“So are you heading back to your hometown young photographer?”
“Yes, I hope the bus will reach Srinagar on time, I need to catch my flight” in need to end the awkward conversation.
“Don’t worry! We Kashmiris are here to take care of our fellow Indians” exclaimed the man.
The stranger headed towards the driver and placed his hand on the driver’s shoulder which sent shudders through him. The bus lost control and came to a screeching halt as it passed through the slippery road in the dark tunnel. But soon the bus lost friction and rammed into a tree.
The passers-by came running to help. Luckily, they were not much casualties. The bus conductor started to curse the man “don’t you have any sense? You scared the driver!”.
The injured passengers were admitted to the nearby hospital which included Vasu. The next day Vasu got back to his senses and was discharged. The accident spared him with a few scars on his fore-head. Near the hospital gate, he again saw his bad-omen, with a broken arm and a sullen face. The man handed over Vasu’s camera kit and walked away without uttering a word.
Vasu headed back to his hotel and inquired about the next possible flight. Opposite to the reception on T.V flashed the news “Jammu and Kashmir has been hit by flood, gobbling up the lives of almost 200 people. Srinagar and the surrounding villages has been filled with water of about 12 feet, IAF and BSF are at rescue.” Vasu cursed himself as it continued “all the flight to and from Jammu and Kashmir has been canceled”. He stayed back in Kashmir against his wishes until the weather was suitable for traveling. He never saw the sinister stranger again.
One year later….
“And the best photograph under the ‘natural disaster’ category goes to Vasu from India. To tell more about him, his photos flashed in all newspapers and journals which shook India and the world in 2014 and saluted the Indian army and its rescue force. He gets the grand prize of $10,000 and a trip to our National Geographic headquarters in Washington DC”. The whole crowd and media folks gave him a standing ovation. Vasu, who was speechless by this gesture made his way through the audience and climbed the dais and received the statuette. With the mike fumbling in his hand he began to say “The true reason behind my achievement is a sinister stranger whom I encountered a few months back in Kashmir. I considered him to bring bad omen”. The whole crowd looked puzzled. Vasu continued “Yes indeed, a stranger who made my trip worse is the reason for me to witness the disaster and those despair moments. Volunteering in the rescue force helped me to understand what it means to help and to be helped. This made me become a better person. Who knew that it would change my outlook on life? No one is unlucky. It is the time which makes us feel so. What is bad will turn out to be good someday. If we killed all the black cats which crossed our paths, we would need a Pied Piper in each city. There is a deep seated purpose behind all the incidents .Thank you stranger!”
-Lohithaksha Sreedharan
Edited by: Nivetha Sivasamy
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