Yesterday evening, after the day’s work wrapped up at around 7:15 PM, Dr. Tejal and I set off from Vashi to Kharghar. We were heading to Motherhood Hospital for a video shoot, and the air was thick with excitement. We arrived by 7:50 PM, where Mr. Shahrukh was already waiting for us. The session was a success—we breezed through six recordings and stepped out of the hospital feeling energized and proud of our work.
On a whim, I decided to visit the Kharghar branch of my old gym, which I first joined twenty-five years ago. I wanted to say a quick hello to the manager, Mrs. Shilpi; it had been nearly a year since we last spoke. “Let’s go,” I told Dr. Tejal.
The gym was in the same building, but the entrance was tucked away in the back. As we walked down a semi-dark, downward-sloping alley, I noticed a woman who looked like a banjara, tenderly cradling her baby. I paused for a split second to admire the beauty of the scene, but when she called out “Didi,” my defenses went up. Fearing she might ask for money or favors, I looked away and hurried toward the lifts with Dr. Tejal.
She persisted, running after us and calling out again. Still, I ignored her. Finally, she caught up to us at the elevator and asked, “Are you looking for the gym?” When I said yes, she kindly pointed us in the right direction, guiding us exactly where we needed to go.
I felt a sharp pang of guilt. I realized how often our perceptions are clouded by suspicion, causing us to miss the inherent simplicity and goodness in people. This morning’s “Whisper” echoed these feelings, helping me process the weight of yesterday:
“Doubt is human; it is normal, and the opposite would be worrying. In such an unconventional situation, how could it be otherwise? Total assurance would be suspect.”
It was a humbling reminder that while doubt protects us, we must be careful not to let it blind us to the kindness of strangers.
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