Stranger

I dialled a number. Before the call could be picked up, I realised that I had dialed wrong a number. However it rang at the other end, someone dryly said, "Wrong number. "and the call was disconnected.

I dialled again, "Wrong number. "the call was disconnected again.

I was in police department those days and we were trained to be alert, concerned and curious so I called for the third time.

"you again !" spoke he irritated.

"Yes, and I want to know unless I spoke how did you make out that it was a wrong number?"

"None of your business. " he disconnected the line again.

I thought for a while and called again.

" What the hell ! Don't you understand that . . ?"

"Understand what! that nobody calls you ever!. " he disconnected again.

I called up again, fed up of this game, finally he gave up. , "Ok, what do you want ?"

"I thought I should just say hello. "

"Say hello to a stranger, but why?"

"Because nobody says, so I thought why not I. . . . " silence lingered for a long time, then he said, "Ok, . . . who you are ?"

"At last my efforts to break the ice didn't go in vain. I told him about myself and he about himself, "I'm Jatin Joshi, 88years completed on this earth and for the last 20 years forgotten by the world. "He laughed a hollow laughter.

We talked for sometime and I came to know that he had no friends, no surviver from his family nor relations. He has served the police department for 40 years. Before calling off I asked if I could call him again.

He sounded surprised, "Why do you want to call me again?"

"We may be phone -friends just like pen-friends!"

He remained silent for sometime then replied, "Ok, friendship at this age, let it be!"

Next day I called him again. The call was picked immediately. Now it became a routine. He would share the experiences of his life. He was an interesting fellow. I gave him my personal and official number and told him to call me anytime he needed.

It wasn't that I was showing sympathy for an old and forsaken man. Infact I loved sharing time with him. I was brought up in an orphanage, he filled the vacuum of a father in my life. Often he would guide and advise me. He would say, "Hurry spoils curry, always remember this and think twice before taking an action. "

Once he said, "I talk to you the way I would have talked with my son. How I wished, I had a family and children ! You are very young and inexperienced, you'll understand it some day. "

One day he informed that his 89th birthday was approaching. I went to a store, purchased a beautiful card and 89 candles. Next day I asked my colleagues to write birthday wishes for him on the card.

For the last four months we have been phone -friends but have not seen each other. I decided to surprise him. I reached on his given address, parked my car, rang hi door bell. The bell buzzed for quite sometime, then the neighbour peeped, he said, "No one lives here. "

"Why, isn't it Mr. Jatin Joshi's residence?"I inquired.

He replied, "I'm sorry, he passed away day before yesterday. "

"Passed away! how could that be?"I felt the hollowness of my own voice.

"Collecting myself, teary-eyed I reached my car, keeping the birthday card on the back seat whispered, "You were not a wrong number , no stranger. . no way. . , you were my friend. . my friend. "