Asking for directions!

Gone are the days when you asked someone for directions. The cellphone is your navigator today. It directs you to your destination with uncanny accuracy.

Finding your way in the good, old days relied entirely on the human navigator. He was your Mariner’s compass. Perched on every parapet wall, his sole purpose of existence was to help the lost. You show the paper with the address- “Ambaji Niketan, East Chembur”.

“For Ambaji Niketan, you take the first left. You will see a circle. You take the third left. You will see a big tree. After the tree, you take the second right!” For confirmation, you repeat the directions. “Not the second right, it is the third left!” he corrected you. You repeat one more time and he corrected you once more. “Not before the tree, after it!” Finally, he got irritated, “You take the first left” and ask someone.

Your quest for Ambaji Niketan took you to the big tree. You asked the passerby. “But this is West Chembur and Ambaji Nagar, not Niketan. The address says East. Someone misled you.” On the way back, you spotted the first good Samaritan, now giving directions to another person. You carefully avoided eye-contact and stayed out of harm’s way.

Back to the main road and you showed the address slip at the shop. One look and he gave the paper back as though he had better things to do. You yelled “Ambaji Niketan” to anyone and everyone. Eventually, a passerby smiled as though he knew the answer.  You ask him one more time. He grinned even more! Finally, he blurted out, “I am also new to this place!”

Some navigators were great thinkers. “Ambaji Niketan?” and pondered over it repeating it over and over! He knitted his eyebrows, waiting for a divine revelation. You hung on. Eventually, he ended abruptly, “Sorry! I don’t know!”

If oral directions were tough to follow, hand-drawn directions were more so. You never gave a full paper to anyone. He started at the center of the paper and drew a line, “For Ambaji Niketan, you take this road. You keep going.” extending the line till it hit the top of the paper. For lack of room, he went to the next page, and continued the line. In some time, he had scribbled more lines and spirals till it resembled an enormous cobweb. “All clear?” he asked you. You felt like responding, “As clear as cow dung!”

Soon, there was distaste for the very words “Ambaji Niketan”. You cursed your uncle for sending you on this wild goose chase. You muttered, “At least uncle could have stayed at a more prominent place like the Gateway of India!”