"It was a typical summer morning at Bangalore Airport in southern India.
"I hadn't been there for about a year and, as usual, was swamped by a swarm of cabbies who were bidding for my business in a spontaneous auction. The rates started from Rs2,500 a day.
"Then out of the crowd a man walked up to me confidently and waved the other contenders away, saying I was his regular. He quietly agreed to the counter-bid that I had made to the bidders earlier.
Unhappy murmurs spread among the also-rans, the losers obviously annoyed, but they made way for us nonetheless.
Quite amused at the turn of events, I reiterated the terms and the cabbie merely nodded, confirming that it was the rate we had agreed upon a year ago and he would stick to it. Then he turned around and said, "I am Sampath; Sir, don't you remember me?"
"Taken aback at his continued patronage and ease with me, I politely apologised that I could not remember him and asked when I had engaged him previously.
"He looked hard at me and then asked me, "Sir, how's your son?"
"Then it all came flooding back - I had engaged him on a business trip for a few days in Bangalore when we had taken a trip for my son's treatment at a hospital near the city. Now I was positive it was the same taxi driver.
"Sampath then asked about my wife and daughter and a colleague who had accompanied me on the previous trip.
"I was speechless at his amazing memory and his sincere concern, especially for my son - and all this from a man who possibly had worked every day with a new customer for the 400-odd days since I had last engaged his cab.
"Sampath's memory and attentiveness seemed all the more amazing when I cast my thoughts back to when I lived in California for five years.
"While there, I went to the same shop every day to purchase groceries and every conceivable knick-knack for the home.
"Whenever I purchased a pack of cigarettes from the grocery, the lady at the cashier would ask me for my driving licence to prove my age - and this, every single time! This was despite the fact that I often went to the shop twice a day for the entire duration of my stay.
"'Thanks for making me feel younger," I would reply.
"However, this attempt at humour never seemed to get through to her and the ritual continued with her never, ever remembering me.
"And there was Sampath, a cabbie with the capacity to remember a face among the thousands he sees every year, as well as recall the problems of that individual. For me, it was almost shocking to realise that this taxi driver actually did care. My first reaction was to feel flattered that he felt I was worthy of being remembered.
"After a few minutes of pondering, reality sank in that I was just plain lucky to have chanced upon such a good human being.
"He was no follower of Dale Carnegie, nor was he interested in making me his friend and influencing people for monetary gain. He was just a nice human being who cared and remembered, that's all.
"Now, before I write off the bidders the next time around in an Indian railway station or airport, I feel compelled to look for a Sampath, thinking there are so many good men out there - who should I pick to be lucky this time?
"And what, indeed, makes people like Sampath the way they are? It's worth researching, don't you think?
"It goes without saying that I now keep Sampath's phone number in my diary and when in Bangalore, I avoid an auction and go straight to him.
