Recently, I received a random phone call from the most unlikely of people. Actually, it was a call from someone whom I had forgotten about completely. My mom had answered the phone for the main line of the house, said for me to come grab it, so I did. On the other end was an Indian man with such a thick accent, but I recognized the voice. "Dena?" the voice said. "Um, yeah?" my usual response went. "How are you!??" he continued on. "I'm... fine? Who the hell is this?" I inquired back from him. "I'm xxxxx (I forget his name now), from the leather store in Woodbridge Mall." I thought for a second, then recalled who he was. He was this Indian man that worked adjacent to me in the mall, and he'd come out during the course of the day and talk to me and offer to bring me coffee by telling me, "Coffee time!" with this enthusiastic tone that eminated through his thick Indian accent. He went on to tell me that he had gotten my phone number somehow (weird) and wanted to call me and thank me for my friendship and hospitality while he's been in America, and that he misses his family and is going back to India to be with them. "You are a very great person and I wish you the best of things in life. I'm so glad to have met you and you made my stay in America a pleasurable one." he went on to say. I won't lie - beneath the weirded out feeling, I was a hodge podge of impressed and moved. Here, this man went out of his way to call me, and I somehow made some kind of impact on him, and I can't even recall his name and wouldn't even think to think about him. I could have questioned how he got my phone number, or even remembered me after not seeing him at all for 3 years, but I didn't; somehow it didn't feel appropriate. I wanted to keep that sentimental value instead of risking its destruction with questions that would yield answers that really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. I say all that to say this: this whole tsunami thing made me think of him, and hope him and his family and friends got away unscathed. Before that day, I generally disliked Indian people just because of the odor that leaks out of them like a rotting garbage bag sitting in the summer sun, but this specific Indian man, fuck... I wish I remembered his name, had changed my view on Indian people. I can't help but wonder how much we impact people and never even realize it. Most likely, I've impacted people in a negative way because I'm generally a prick and have made quite a few people's lives a big, fat nightmare. I've gotten better as the years have gone by; I'm not nearly as much of an asshole. Thinking about it now, I guess that I was just as affected by that Indian man as he was by me, because I know for a fact that if he didn't sort of prove his race held some decent people, I wouldn't have cared much about those 57,000 and rising deaths from the tsunami. So, wherever you are now, Indian man, I hope you're safe.
The tale of the strange Indian man
5:03 p.m.//12.29.04
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