Arun was an experienced and cautious driver. He knew how treacherous
icy roads could be and drove carefully, accelerating gently to avoid skidding.
Traffic was sparse, with only a couple of vehicles moving slowly ahead of them.
“Drive slowly,” Veena reminded him. “The roads are slippery. Don’t
press the accelerator too hard.”
As they drove, their conversation turned to a subject they had often
debated.
Veena had long believed that many white Americans treated immigrants,
especially people of colour, with quiet condescension. In her experience,
whether at shopping malls, airports, banks, or other public places, she felt
that white customers were greeted more warmly and served more promptly, while
immigrants often received brief, impersonal responses.
Arun, however, did not share her view.
“I don’t think it’s prejudice,” he said. “People naturally connect more
easily with those who share their background or culture. Just as two Indians
meeting in an Indian grocery store often strike up a conversation, Americans
may find it easier to relate to one another. But when someone genuinely needs
help, I believe most people are kind, regardless of race.”
Veena disagreed and cited several incidents that had reinforced her
opinion.
Arun laughed gently.
“Perhaps the real problem is your strong Tamilian accent,” he teased.
“People may simply struggle to understand you.”
Veena shot him an annoyed glance, pulled a long face and fell silent.
They had almost reached their community road, which was slightly narrow
at a particular stretch, when Arun noticed, in his rear-view mirror, a large
SUV approaching rapidly from behind. The driver attempted to overtake. At that
very moment, another vehicle appeared from the opposite direction. Realising
the danger, the SUV swerved sharply back into its lane, forcing Arun to steer
towards the edge of the road to avoid a collision.
His car slid off the icy surface and rammed into a snowbank.
Fortunately, neither Arun nor Veena was hurt. But the car was firmly
stuck. Snow had piled around and beneath it, making it impossible to move.
They stepped out into the freezing air and assessed the situation. The
snow packed under the chassis and around the bonnet looked formidable.
“We may have to call 911,” Arun said.
Just then, three vehicles stopped one after another behind them.
A young American, perhaps in his twenties, got out of the first car.
“Hi,” he said with a friendly smile. “Looks like you’ve run into
trouble. Can we help?”
Soon, three more people, including a middle-aged lady, joined him.
Without wasting a moment, the young man took two towels from his
vehicle.
“You two clear the snow from the top,” he said, handing Arun a tool.
“I’ll work underneath.”
He spread the towels on the icy ground and lay flat beneath the car.
Despite the biting cold, he patiently chipped away at the packed snow and ice
underneath. The others worked tirelessly, clearing snow from around the wheels
and pushing whenever needed.
For nearly thirty minutes, they laboured together in the freezing
weather.
Finally, with one determined push, the car broke free from the
snowbank.
As the engine luckily purred back to life, Arun turned to them with
deep gratitude.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” he said. “You stopped your journey
just to help total strangers.”
The young man smiled.
“You don’t have to thank us,” he replied. “Helping someone in distress
is simply what human beings should do. We haven’t done anything extraordinary.”
The others nodded in agreement.
After exchanging handshakes and warm smiles, they returned to their
vehicles and drove away into the winter evening.
For several minutes, silence filled the car.
Then Veena spoke softly.
“I owe you an apology.”
Arun glanced at her but said nothing.
“I realise now that I allowed a few unpleasant experiences to shape my
opinion of an entire community. Those strangers didn’t see our colour, our
nationality, or our accents. They saw only two people in need of help. Humanity
is far greater than race or prejudice. From now on, I shall try to be more
positive and more open-minded.”
Arun smiled.
“That’s wonderful,” he said. “But don’t forget to work on your Tamilian
accent.”
Veena laughed and said with some pride, “Not merely Tamilian accent but
my Palakkad Tamilian accent.”
“Yes, all the more tough to follow,” said Arun
For the rest of the drive home, the warmth in the car came not just
from the heater, but from a renewed faith in human kindness.
