Valour....21st Century style...

You must have met Mein Jhabavi, our JV partner in Jordan. a very suave but tricky guy! He was made a partner to sell and service our Automotive Dealership software application and he was genuinely trying to con the auto dealers in to buying our software. As part of sales promotion, he convinced us as well as Microsoft, Middle East that an event must be held in Amman and he successfully managed to put the tab on us and Microsoft to bear the cost!

" Zaghu! you need to be here, without fail". He always called me with an Z rather than an R!

Though my presence was purely unnecessary, I took the opportunity to go because of my desire to see  the Dead Sea!

Amman as a city was reddish in colour, the tone of its sand. The event was a flop with just 4 dealers being present to devour the delicious lunch and Mein had his own innovative reasons for the poor show, which almost bordered on stupidity.

That evening Mein hosted us a dinner in another fine restaurant where the group had its first taste of hookah in flavors like strawberry and vanilla. I am sure you would not believe if I were to promise that I did not smoke!

Next day we visited the Dead sea. The long ribbon-like highway was empty and on either side, there were a few lazy camels who looked up to notice our car and within a fraction, turned away with a condescending look of pure disgust!

From where we stopped the car, there were  long rows of steps that led to the waters. All along the way, the clay mud is being sold for an atrocious dollar price. You need to apply it on your body and float in the waters of Dead sea.The unusually high salt content in water lets you float without drowning and we could see a few bikini clad white skins floating lazily with a book in hand!

At a distance, the land which we could see was explained by Mein as Palestine and it wore quite a clam sight, in those days.

It happened as I went to the rest room and on my way back to the car. Somebody called me out and I could see a middle aged man in dirty working clothes with a shovel in hand. His face had too many wrinkles and there were bruises with fresh blood oozing.

"Are you from India" - The voice was broken and in tattered Tamil. 

"Yes"

" Please help me! I have been held in captivity and made to work for over 16 hours. They  feed me only once a day. I am dying, please"

 

I was nervous and a bit apprehensive.

"what can I do"

"Please take me in your car and drop me near the airport. I will manage"

"Are you Srilankan Tamil?"

"No Sinhalan. I can speak broken Tamil as I have Tamil friends"

I turned away and ran to my car and we sped away.

The question rocking my mind even today is whether I would have helped if he were a Srilankan Tamil.

I am unable to answer myself till this moment.