We Know Where You Live... I think

Dear Sir (or Madame?),

I don't know your name -- as we were never formally (or informally) introduced -- so forgive me for addressing this to you as such. In fact, I don't know anything about you other than where you live, or better said... where you were at around 8am on Tuesday, November 7th. I'm not sure, but I have a strong suspicion that you meet many people this way, thus I won't trouble you with a complicated introduction. It wouldn't behoove either of us for me to present you with my full name... Actually, now that I think about it, let me simplify it even further and henceforth refer to myself as number 31. Yes. Sleeper Car 1, Bed 31.

I write to you now from Jabalpur and will be here until Monday night presiding over the training of our 8 newly hired nurses. By my calculations, I should be back your way by noon or so this coming Tuesday, the 14th. I can't say exactly what platform my train will stop on, but I think I can trust you to inquire at the station. It's the Allahabad station, right? I was rather tired, well... sleeping to be exact, so I'm not positive. Either way, I'll be sure to keep a look out. And although you may not remember precisely what I look like, I'm pretty sure you took notice that I was rather light-skinned. And tall, too. I'm sure you must have at least by now realized that; I mean with size 13 shoes and all.

Just so you know, I'm not mad. I would hate to be you though, because the 8 nurses are a bit ticked at your giving their country a bad name. They say that hell has no wrath like a scorned woman, and while these women weren't exactly scorned, there are 8 of them, so be careful.

It's not my place to judge need. For all I know you needed them more than me. Size, however, I can judge, and in a country of a billion people, there aren't more than a dozen that will fit into a size 13 shoe. Forgive the hyperbole, but seriously... a size 13?!

Anyway, I'm assuming that you just borrowed my sneakers. After all they're running shoes, and in more than three months in India I've yet to see someone out for a jog. Once you realize that, I'm sure you'll happily return them. I look forward to (re)meeting you.


                                      Thanking you in advance,

                                                                        Number 31


P.S. Feel free to keep the sock. Actually, I'll bring the other one with me and you can have them both.

P.P.S. I'm enclosing a photo of some of the nurses. Just so you know, this photo was taken several hours before the incident, so don't let the smiles fool you.