In February 2006, I was returning home after a holiday in Goa with my wife Shivali and our two small children, Janhvi and Basu. We reached Delhi, where we had to change trains. After spending hours in a waiting room I was also disturbed, by having been informed that my father had fallen ill we boarded our train when it arrived. It was past 4pm. The train started moving and I searched for our berths, but the coach was full and all of them were taken. Puzzled, I soon realized my folly. We were on the wrong train!
In our haste we had boarded the Shatabdi Express to Amritsar instead of the Kalka Shatabdi Express to Jalandhar. I panicked and pulled the emergency chain. But nothing happened. I rushed to the door flung our luggage onto the platform, then jumped off, holding my son. Shivali, who was with my daughter, tried to alight in much the same manner, but could not, as the train had gathered speed, In a matter of seconds, the train was out of sight. I ran to inquiry office. I was told that the train’s next stop was some 300km away, and that I would have to go there to meet my wife and daughter. They assured me they’d inform the station master there but could do nothing more.
I just sat there frozen with my now-weeping son, not knowing what to do.
After about 30 minutes, I saw a turbaned, elderly Sikh gentleman walking towards me. In my sorry state, I paid him little attention, until I noticed that my wife and daughter were trailing him. I hugged Shivali and Janbhvi, all of us shedding tears of joy. Shivali told me that the gentleman had managed to stop the train by pulling the chain hard, then escorted them back to the platform, walking about four kilometres beside the tracks.
Meanwhile, the Kalka Shatabdi Express arrived. As we boarded, I heaved a sigh of relief, then remembered that I had forgotten to thank our Good Samaritan who had abandoned his own journey to help reunite our family. Only when the train began to move did my eyes search the platform. I found him smiling and waving at us. Whoever you are, wherever you are, I thank you.
-Bhushan Chander Jindal, Jalandhar
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