Kindness to strangers is a virtue mostly ignored in the practical world. Being kind does not usually answer the question “What is in it for me?” well. However, there are exceptions which make the world a little better. I am singularly lucky to have met more than fair share of these kind souls. Let me recount some instances here. Decades ago, a friend’s family was moving to a new city and a goods truck was hired. Fresh out of college, both of us decided to ride in the truck. Halfway through, dusk fell. The driver switched on the lights and revved up a little to make the most of the remaining day but suddenly a motorcycle overtook the truck, to drive squarely in the front. He would not move away despite our angry honking and attempts to overtake. Suddenly, I sensed our truck driver had slowed down, letting the motorcycle drive in front. This went on for around 15 kms till we entered a small town and the motorcycle drifted away on to a side street. Perplexed, I asked him why he let the motorcycle ride in front, losing a precious half an hour. Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty“Aap ne dekha nahin, uss motorcycle waale ke light nahin thee (you didn’t notice – that motorcycle had no headlight)”, he said smilingly. “Woh hamaari gaadi kee light mein chal raha thha. Hum ko toh saari raat chalna hai, aadha ghanta late sahi, par woh toh hamaare bharose sahi salamat apne ghar pahunch jayega raat mein (he was using our truck’s lights to drive. We have anyway to drive for the whole night ahead, what does a half-hour delay matter to us? But with our little help, he will reach his family safe and sound tonight)”. What else does kindness look like?There was that other time, back when I was to travel from Lucknow to Delhi by train after a hectic day, when the Kargil war had just been declared in the evening. With no confirmed ticket and massive crowds, I clambered on to a densely crowded general compartment of Nauchandi Express, the only slow train I could get a toe-hold on.Standing neck-deep in the cauldron of humanity, I balanced my attache case and office briefcase. As the train started, some people squeezed on to the seats they had grabbed while others simply sat down on the train floor. Fifteen minutes into the journey, it seemed only I was left standing. Resigned to my fate, and weary with exhaustion, I dozed off while still standing, when someone tapped on my thigh. A young man was holding out in his hand a small folded strip of thick paper. “Ye un bhaisahab ne diya hai aapko dene ke liye (That gentleman has sent this for you),” he said, pointing towards a middle-aged person sitting at the far end of the berth. I took the piece of paper, seemingly torn off from a packet of cigarettes, and straightened it out to find a hasty scribble on it “Bhaisahab, meri seat Hardoi mein khaali hogi (Brother, my seat would get vacant in Hardoi)”. As I glanced up, he nodded at me smilingly, raising his hand in an abhaymudra of sorts. Fifteen minutes later, when the train was pulling into Hardoi, he beckoned me, swiftly got up and holding my shoulders practically pushed me down onto the seat before other claimants could realise what had happened. Even today I wonder in admiration the extent he went to, to ensure a young stranger could travel 10 hours in comfort. What else is kindness?Then there was another instance when a younger me and a work colleague were at a factory in a slightly forlorn area near a mofussil town. When we were finished with our day’s work, the long road to the highway had totally quietened down. There were no buses – we knew from our enquiries. The ominous silence of the evening and empty fields around gave us no hope of any other ride back. With no other option in sight, we started walking back, hoping for some miracle. Sure enough, our prayers were answered soon. A young scooter rider came our way and we hitched a ride. As he dropped us at the highway junction after some 15 minutes, we were perplexed to see him turn around instead of going ahead. Upon enquiring, he smiled and said, “O sir, main apne khet mein baitha thha jab aap ko paidal jaate dekha. Mujhe pata thha ki ab kuchh sawari milni nahin hai. Toh aap ko chhodne chala aaya. Ab waapis ghar. (Sir, I was sitting in my fields when I saw you walking. I knew you wouldn’t get any conveyance now. So, came to drop you. Now back to home)”. And he sped away, leaving us speechless with this casual kind act. Rahul Gaur is a Gurgaon-based marketing professional, who nourishes his soul with literature. He hosts literary podcast ‘Majhdhaar’; is the author of poetry collection ‘Teen Chavanni, Kul Pachhattar’; and contributes to newspapers and anthologies.We’ve grown up hearing that “it’s the small things” that matter. That’s true, of course, but it’s also not – there are Big Things that we know matter, and that we shouldn’t take our eyes, minds or hearts off of. As journalists, we spend most of our time looking at those Big Things, trying to understand them, break them down, and bring them to you.And now we’re looking to you to also think about the small things – the joy that comes from a strangers’ kindness, incidents that leave you feeling warm, an unexpected conversation that made you happy, finding spaces of solidarity. Write to us about your small things at thewiresmallthings@gmail.com in 800 words or less, and we will publish selected submissions. We look forward to reading about your experiences, because even small things can bring big joys.Read the series here.