Survival of not the fittest
It was a pleasant evening in Pune, and I was heading to a friend’s place on my bike. Just a few meters from my home, someone asked me to stop. He was an elderly man, probably in his early seventies, with a calm, innocent face and a warm smile. He was holding a small packet in his hand. I stopped and asked him what he needed. He politely asked if I could give him a lift to the nearest ATM, which was about 500 meters away. I agreed instantly, not knowing that this short ride would leave a lifelong impact on me. As we started riding, I noticed he was wearing a security agency uniform. Curious, I asked him about it. He told me he worked as a security guard at the ATM. I was surprised—he didn’t really fit the picture of a typical security guard. He looked frail and old, and it seemed difficult for him to even walk a few hundred meters. We reached the ATM quickly, but our conversation continued for a while. Just to be sure, I gently asked him again if he really worked there, and he con...