The Rude Stranger

February 2020

I got up from my chair and said, “I’ll be back in a minute.” Chandni also started to get up from her chair and said, “Let me take you there.”

I had just arrived in New Delhi, and my cousin Chandni had invited me for lunch at their country club, popularly called “The Golf Club.” We were sitting under a large tent which had been erected for people to enjoy lunch outside during the cool winter months. Chandni knew of my macular degeneration and inability to navigate my way properly.

“No, no!” I protested. “I will find my way, thank you.”

Realizing that it was a matter of dignity for me, Chandni settled back in her chair and said, “Go inside and ask the receptionist, and he will give you directions to the restroom.”

The man at the reception desk said, “Sir, take a left, then a right, then a left again.”

The light was dim inside the club, and with my macular degeneration and shaded glasses, the light seemed dimmer than it really was. When I made the first left turn, the light got dimmer. When I turned right, the light was dimmer yet. I started to feel nervous, realizing that I would not be able to tell the difference between the men’s room door and the women’s. I could just imagine the reaction in the ladies’ room if I walked through the wrong door!

My nervousness turned into panic as I made the final left turn, because the light there was even dimmer. To me, it was practically dark. Then, with a great sense of relief, I saw the form of a gentleman about 30 or 40 feet ahead, walking toward me. I pointed to my eyes and said, “Sir, I cannot see properly. Could you tell me which one is the men’s bathroom?” He did not reply. I thought perhaps he didn’t understand me. So, when we were maybe 10 feet apart, I asked again, “Sir, which one is the men’s bathroom? I cannot see properly.” But still there was no answer. I was irritated. But I rationalized immediately: perhaps he is hard of hearing.

We kept walking towards each other. When we were face-to-face, almost a foot apart, I asked one more time, my tone now showing my irritation. No answer. I had asked three times, and no answer. I thought, if this guy isn’t deaf, he’s pretty rude!

Finally, we stood nose-to-nose. And then I realized I was talking to myself in a mirror at the end of the long hallway. I entered the bathroom, taken aback. It was a strange feeling, knowing I had been annoyed with a stranger who turned out to be me. I was glad there was no one else in the bathroom as I broke into gales of laughter!