Part 1 - Time when the car broke down!

A few months back, while travelling for a video shoot, we met some captivating people who ran businesses in these areas. I could not help but share these experiences in this series while I did take the liberty of changing their names.It is inspired by the values demonstrated by the people of rural India. Their approach got me thinking of the customer service values in small towns and villages.

It was a long drive from the chaos of the urban set-up. We had been travelling for quite some time and had no plans of stopping on our way to the location of our shoot. Unfortunately, a few hundred kilometres on, our car broke down, leaving us stranded.

Just then, a pack of bikes, each carrying two or three men, stopped by. They were dressed in linen shirts and dhotis, with various coloured scarves tied around either their heads or necks. They were quick to recognise our problem and offered to guide us to the home of the mechanic who lived in the nearby village. We immediately hopped on their bikes. Two men offered to stay back near the car to keep an eye on it.

We reached a small asbestos-roofed house. On one side of the house, a few cycle tubes hung along with an air pressure machine. Some greased cloth pieces were lying about, and we noticed tubs filled with both clean and muddy water. On a chair, there was a tool-kit. A middle-aged man walked out of the house, dressed casually in his linen cloth shirt with a white dhoti draped traditionally around his waist. The villagers accompanying us ran him through what had happened.

He greeted us with a gesture of a namaste and a big smile on his face, introducing himself as Tukaram, the mechanic. Soon after, his wife appeared with some water for us to drink. They quickly moved the grains on the porch outside next to the hanging tubes, making space for us to sit.

A short while later, we started back towards our car.It was already quite a sunny afternoon. We indulged in some casual banter along the way. Tukaram quickly assessed the status of our car and said it would require a minimum of two hours to repair.

I asked," Is there any hotel nearby for us to have something to eat?"

He shrugged his head and said, "Alas! there is no hotel in the vicinity. But why worry when I am here? Please let me arrange for some hot, pipping pakoras for you all while I work on your car. My wife is an amazing cook and her pakoras are very famous in the Pampri village."

When we returned to Tukaram's house, his wife had already begun the preparation. Our stomachs growled in response to the smell of the food. Tukaram's wife, Anita Devi, invited us inside. She had already set up a dining area for us. Along with her two children, she quickly served us some hot onion pakoras, a tangy tomato chutney, and a cup of chai. The pakoras were as delicious as Tukaram had promised.

Eventually, Tukaram returned with the news that our car had been repaired and was parked in front of the house. We made our payment to Tukaram for his service, though his kindness was more than we could ever repay. We said our goodbyes to the family, and they told us to visit them again.

As the faces of the villagers faded in the distance, I began to ponder: Who was I to Tukaram?

When was the last time a business went out of its way to meet the needs of its customers? Tukaram's kindness got me thinking about the bond between a business and a customer. He had attended to us whole-heartedly without any apprehensions. This was more than a transaction between a business and a customer. We had formed a bond that my companions and I would long remember.

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