Stranded & rescued: 'She took care of me like her own'

Recently a Rediff staffer shared his experience of being stranded in the middle of nowhere and being helped out by a bunch of unknown people. We invited readers to share similar stories.

Anila V writes about her experience of travelling from the Netherlands to India when she was pregnant.

Becoming a mother is every woman's dream. And when I learnt I was soon to be a mother, I was in seventh heaven.

I was four weeks pregnant and the most traumatising time had begun for my husband and me. I was working in the Netherlands and the 'morning' sickness has turned to an all out nightmare!

I was vomiting everything that I ate or drunk.

Dehydrated, exhausted, weak -- I had lost 10 kgs in two weeks!

After two weeks of hospitalisation, my husband decided it was time for me to go back as everyone was getting worried. But since he was there on an assignment that would not allow him to travel back -- and it would create legal hassles for us, I coaxed him into letting me travel alone -- after all a matter of seven hours on the plane.

When I reached the airport, I had already thrown up twice, my husband was worried, but I assured everything was fine.

By the time I completed my formalities and reached the gate I was in a really bad condition. That was when a lady with her three sons came and sat next to me.

She started talking to me and I learnt that she was from the same place and that I was from in India. Upon learning of my situation, she immediately took over my guardianship. She got me water, helped me to my seat and even sent her sons every ten minutes to check if I was ok.

We had to change flights at Frankfurt. She helped me with my tickets, the long walk and when I felt dizzy, she brought me food and juice and even offered her shoulders for me to rest my head on when we were waiting! And to think I had just met her around three hours ago!

On reaching Chennai, she got her sons to take my luggage and all along she took care of me like I was her own.

I cannot thank her enough. Without her I would not have completed my journey. Today my daughter is three years old. But not a day goes by when I don't think of the angel who helped me on that day.

Muralidharan Mahalingam shares his experience of travelling to Vaishnodevi

This story dates back to several years ago when I was young, recently married and had a four year old son.

We were off to the Vaishnodevi temple in Jammu from my brother-in-law's place at Khas Yeol, Himachal Pradesh.

The journey from Khas Yeol to Chakki Bank, Punjab was quite comfortable by bus. At Chakki Bank, we had to take another bus to Jammu on our onward journey to Vaishnodevi Temple

Much to our dismay, we found at Chakki Bank that all inter-state buses were on strike and the skeletal bus services that were running were packed to capacity!

There was no way that a young couple with a small kid and their luggage would be able to board the bus to Jammu! Moreover, we had to travel that very day to Jammu because our schedule was packed and our return tickets were also booked!

It was getting to be dark and those were terrorist-infested times. Asif out of nowhere a child approaches us and asks if we wanted to want to travel to Jammu in a Maruti van. I notice that there are three other hefty people in the same van!

Hesitantly, I agree. Despite all my apprehensions, we reached Jammu safely. It was in the middle of the night but we also managed to find a hotel!

They say if god wills something it will happen. That day God came in the form of that small child that made our visit to the Vaishnodevi temple possible.

Sanjay S Rao tells us how an African-Amercian man helped him out in Baltimore

I arrived to US in February 1998 on a H1 visa. At that time in Baltimore, Maryland there weren't many Indians. After struggling for the first week, I found an apartment in a predominantly African American area of Baltimore (More than 50 per cent of Baltimore population is African American.) Transportation from my new apartment to the workplace was getting to be difficult, as I had to depend on my boss for everything.

So he asked me if I could drive a car. I had also boasted of having international driving permit. Only I knew that I could hardly drive! Either way, he got me a rental car and gave me directions that had numbered roads and also directions like east-west-north-south.

Somehow I managed to start the car and even move it. Within no time I was on interstate 695 breezing at 60 miles. It didn't take me too long to find out that it was not easy to turn the wheel and take an exit at that speed. Not knowing how to take the exit I decided that I would not stop unless the road itself winds down and stops. After driving for more than an hour, the road did stop inside the Baltimore city. Driving in the city was not so difficult.

But driving in an unknown place in pitch dark in a not-so-friendly neighbourhood was terrifying. To add to my problems I did not have any phone numbers nor could I remember my exact address. All I knew were some basic landmarks like McDonalds and IHOPs.

It was 10 in the night. Not knowing what to do, I dashed into a bar as that was the only place open at that time and explained my plight to a huge African American truck driver who was guzzling a pitcher of beer.

He left the table with the unfinished pitcher and asked me to follow him through the rough patches of the city making sure that I was behind him all along. After making half a dozen stops and driving for more than an hour he finally brought me home. I had no words to thank him. I didn't know how to repay his gesture. He then took his big hand with a loud voice shaking my hand he told me I was like his brother Mohammed and told me not to ever make the mistake I'd made that day. I was speechless thinking what fools we are, we judge people by how they look and what name and profession they take.