Yesterday, as I was walking to my home from Office, with "She's got the looks" on the lips and feet in air, I was stopped by a sudden traffic jam..Buses, auto rickshaws, cars, and bikes all honking as if that was the last moment of life on earth- the sounds were creeping into me in spite of the high volume that my iPod had been coughing out.

It took me some seconds to understand what had happened. I saw a man bleeding profusely, fighting with another man, and a woman down on the divider on the road, bleeding too. They seem to be those employed to clean the divider- to cut the grass that had grown there, to make the divider more walk able.

There was a sizeable crowd around, everyone standing on either side of the road, watching, chatting amongst themselves, tch-tching, asking to one another what had happened to the woman, while one was busy taking the two men away from each other- one was having a shovel in his hands and the other a screw driver and a cutting plier.

The woman was bleeding and was for sure unconscious. I was disturbed by the sight. None of the people around standing and watching the scene did anything to help the poor soul. The first thought was to curse everyone...I slowly took out my iPod, curled it up, secured it in my bag, then starred at the man trying to wake up the woman. He was holding her "dead" hand, pulling her, trying to get the woman back to consciousness.

I wanted to be the “Hero”, go there, ask the people to move off, create a scene, call for ambulance, call for some auto at least to take her to the hospital. The pessimist in me kept reminding me on how I don’t know the language, on how I will be able to answer the police, how I might be able to tackle the pulls and pushes of such an act, how I need to reach home to catch the “Senthamizh naadenum podehinile” in Java TV, the killing thirst, the packing that I need to do for my travel the next day.

I cursed everyone on the street- from the mute spectators, to the speeding vehicles on the other side of the road, the men who were still intent on fighting despite the blood, the tch-tching people in the bus.

I wanted to do something- should I be the one to act? Should I go there and do all that is necessary? What is the world coming to?? Why is anyone not helping the men in need?

I slowly move out of the croud..dial 100 and complain about the incident. The person on the other end doesn’t ask for my number [may be he has a caller id already- will he call me back in case I need to be the witness??]. He promises to send someone immediately. He asks for the condition of the woman. His voice was reassuring. I switch on the iPod with the satisfaction of a Hero.

In the night when I go for dinner, the place is as busy as ever.