Maybe I should have worn a Mask and a Utility Belt

It is indeed rare for a good deed being done in the world today, let alone great or heroic deeds! I was at the business end of two good/ nice/heroic deeds, however you would wish to classify them; both on the same day too! Here in this post I’ll write about the more dramatic one.

I guess airports have a bad reputation about them nowadays, for various reasons. For me, the source of unpleasantness has mostly to do with the outrageous prices. I mean – come on. The food services are like a total ripoff. To loosely quote Jerry Seinfeld, the comedian – Airports are like a separate country of their own. No one can argue of the prices of the commodities on sale. Do the airport officials even know what the prices are like outside? I will liken Seinfeld’s description of a ‘tuna sandwich for 9 dollars’ to the ‘wada pav for 60Rs’ for my example. Anyhow, this post isn’t about these pretty business models.



I was at the Dabolim International Airport in Goa recently, waiting for my flight which had been delayed by half an hour due to air traffic congestion. It was hot in the afternoon, the air-conditioning put to it’s utmost test by the ensemble of sweaty tourists. I had had a heavy lunch at home, and was resisting the sweet clutches of dreamless heaven. To occupy my idle mind, I started reading the posters hung about the place. I was sitting in a row of seats, next to the escalator.

I was sitting there, debating with my drowsy self whether I should take a short siesta. A nap sounded fine to my sleepy skull, the downside being that I would, in all probability, miss the boarding announcement. Damn all flights in the afternoon.

Suddenly I heard screaming, and lot of people running. My first impression was that someone had collapsed. Indeed, someone had – a lady holding a small baby, had slipped on the escalator, dangerously close to the bottom stairs. Her other daughter, maybe four or five years old, was the source of the shrill scream that had semi-brought me back to life. Everywhere people were trying to extend their hands and help grasp the lady – but she wouldn’t let go of her baby. I was amazed at the sight.

This whole scene couldn’t have taken place for more than two seconds.

Suddenly, I was up, my dim-witted brain whirling. In one of the posters I had read earlier, I remembered reading about the red button located at the bottom and top of escalators. The Emergency Stop button.

I found myself shouting, “The red button! The red button!”, but no one was listening. Somehow I squeezed myself in between the jostling knees, and punched the red button before the poor lady’s hair got stuck within the bottom step and dragged her in.

In one slow, agonizing moment, the escalator stopped.

I came back to my seat, totally confused about what had just happened. My brain could barely register that I had just saved somebody.

People ran over to the lady’s help, and made sure she was ok, thank god for that. I heard people asking her if she was alright, and if the baby was fine. I could hear my heart beating; it was almost in my throat by now. I wanted to go over and comfort her myself, but my knees had stopped responding to my brain impulses long ago. Dimly, I heard people talking about what had happened, and people wondering who had stopped the escalator.

I was half-hoping someone would have noticed that it was me, but then I heard someone say that the lady fell because some crazy nut-job stopped the escalator. That itself was enough for me not to get up and claim responsibility for saving the poor woman’s life. I snuck away and found myself a seat farther away, all the while cursing my gutless impulse not to stand up for myself. I saw people looking around for the hero/nut-job, as was their perception, and looked away. More than the sweetness of a good deed, the event had left me with a bitter taste in my mouth.
Now I know what Batman feels like in the Dark Knight. Maybe I should have put on a mask.