This is an incident that happened
almost twenty years ago but I still remember it very distinctly. My contract had
ended with the organization I was working with. I had option of choosing from couple of offers for a job change. I was quite keen on one of them. But as the recruitment procedures were taking more time than expected, I decided to wait for the completion of formalities for the new job of my choice and hence had to leave Oman.
I did not want to sell my car as I
was certain of returning, hence I decided to transfer it in the name of a
friend for safe keeping until my return. My car was in joint ownership of the organization
and myself. Therefore, I needed letter from the organization to transfer the ownership to my friend.
It is not a secret that many
organizations in this region carry a “colonial” attitude in dealing with
their employees. Most managers go around with a demeanor that of a dictator. They literally treat the employees as slaves. There was this
invisible sword of “sacking” hanging always over one’s head. They would
resort to everything possible to make things difficult for the employee. Things may have changed now for the better. I would not know as I have been very fortunate
to be working with organizations that valued the worth of its employees, since
I left this organization.
It was the last working day of the
week, closing time was 1:00 PM. I was quite apprehensive of things moving slowly,
hence I went to the transport office first thing in the morning. As expected, nobody gave me definite answer on when I would get the
letter. Finally after following it up several times, I got the letter along with "end of service settlement" around 11:30 AM. I went to the bank, encashed the settlement cheque and
rushed to the Vehicle Registration Office. I had to hurry because the office
closed at 1:00 PM.
The Vehicle Registration
Office was more crowded than usual, as it was the last day of the week. I had to
complete three procedures, application form verification, fee payment and transfer
completion. As I was standing in the queue, I kept glancing at my watch. Finally
after what seemed like an eternity, I got my application verified and moved
over to the payment counter. By then it was almost 12:30 PM and there were only
three men ahead of me. I heaved a sigh of relief, as I stood awaiting my turn. And then, it happened!
The whole place went dark, it was
a power outage. I stood there dazed and stunned, wondering "oh no, what will happen
now, it was already approaching closing time, what will happen to my car"! I was
jolted back to reality by a voice coming from somewhere behind the counters. Then I
realized that the whole place had become empty and I was the lone man left standing in
the darkness. I felt so stupid! As I looked towards the direction from where the voice seemed to come, I saw a police officer addressing me and asking what was wrong. I
explained my situation to him, that I had to transfer the car in my friend’s name before I left the country that evening.
The police officer took my
application and told me to come to the rear entrance of the building. I rushed out and went around the building looking for the rear entrance. It was a
restricted area, entry allowed only for police personnel. As I approached the rear entrance, I saw the police officer standing in the hot Sun with a file in his hand. As I approached
him, he handed over the transfer completion document and a manually prepared receipt for
cash payment. I gave him the money and took the document, thanking him profusely.
He just smiled and said “no problem, go”.
The police personnel in Oman are
extremely courteous. Even if you are pulled up, the first thing they would do is greet
you with “Salam Alaikum”, followed by hand shake and then only they get down to
business. It is really very heart warming, something quite different as
compared with what happens around some parts of the world.
But I was too flabbergasted at what
just happened. It was absolutely unbelievable that someone, a police officer at
that, would go to such an extent to help you out in such a situation. He could have
just as well looked the other way and carried on with his work. But he chose to
empathize with the state of quandary I was in. Something really extraordinary!
Later when I
returned to Oman, I went looking for the kind police officer. I remembered him
only by his face. I searched, but could not locate him. I tried to look for him during subsequent visits but coild not find him. Either he had been moved to another department or location or he had retired. However, to this day, I cherish his act of kindness.
*****
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