Times called yesterday

The return of the New Year bought me back a beautiful old memory....

As the first Indian, basically a non- Chinese, the decision to live in dorms was difficult for some, unbelievable for others. Specially, when you are a vegetarian, used to delicious home- made sumptuous cuisines, the thought of a dorm without a kitchen is unbelievable. But something inside said, I must try. For I really wanted to live the Oriental life the Oriental way immersed in an all Oriental experience. The thought seemed exotic. The experience was sweet. 
Luggage loaded, completely exhausted the first thing I wanted to do was hit the bed undisturbed for a nightfull of peace. But the roller coaster had just begun. A call to the hostel to confirm the address was returned by an alien all-Chinese greeting. Not that I had not been warned, but when does a crazy adventurous heart listen to the intricacies of troubles that lie ahead! The gentle lady seated besides me had a sense of clairvoyance. More importantly she spoke English! She called up the hostel, took a taxi, guided him the route to take me to my destination. It was only the commencement of a beautiful relationship. A devout Buddhist fascinated by India, Lee & I discovered that we had a lot in common. What more she was an alumni from ECUPL, the same university where I was going to spend the rest of my Semester. But what was most touching was that for this simple two minute acquaintance this perfect stranger in the Land of Dragon spent one complete hour trying to help me out. I was touched. I was thrilled.
Tired, I opened my room to see the vast white spaces covered with cobwebs, dust. Oh my God! I have never cleaned a room. This is tough. Frowning, I started unfolding my luggage. There was a knock on the door. All my batchmates who lived locally & therefore, had arrived before had come to help me. Smilingly, they quickly cleaned my room, arranged the furniture and spent an evening out to help me do all the shopping. Moved by the warm gesture I was sure this will not be one time to China. I have to come back again. The terrains might be difficult. Infrastructure may call for investment. But people are warm, touching and beautiful not just from outside but more importantly from inside. 
The first day was the start of uncountable wonderful gestures by the local Chinese, the fruit vendor who would always get me special fruits, the strangers who would willingly change routes to help me reach my destination, friends who would be forever helpful to make everyday life easy, the security guard who would open the classroom even on weekends to let me do my research, which eventually went on to be the best paper at an International contest. 
Chinese New Year was a particularly emotional experience. All the students at the dorm had returned home to celebrate New Year with their families. There were just five of us in the entire dorm. On the eve of the New Year my friends took me to a wonderful place where a special evening was organized by the hostel authorities to give gifts and dinner to those who were enable to return home to celebrate. The traditional music, dance, food and not to forget the gifts was memorable. I returned home, I mean hostel for it was my home now for at least a year. My friend Lijja had sent a special invite to join her for the celebrations. With a nice silken scarf and a tumultuous three hour bus ride, I reached her place to find a wonderful family, warm friends waiting to celebrate the evening with me. Little kids trying to sit on my lap, a sweet mother trying to prepare vegetarian meal for me and the great Chinese family all trying to make me feel at home in their sweet little ways made feel nostalgic. It was like the great Diwali experience in India. Late in the night, Lijja insisted that they would drop me back to the dorm. Smilingly they drove some 200 kms on that special evening. 
The warm human touch from strangers who shared nothing in common except for emotions taught me a new way of communication. The language of love. The warmth of goodness. 
I came and I went. I lived for over six months in Shanghai. As I look back at that nice warm experience in cold Shanghai winters, just one thought accompanies. If I can go back and say to them, thanks for making my stay special.