@kayezad@bankofbaroda Now since all accounts are linked to mobile no. And everyone uses WhatsApp they can send by WA as well. Banks where you haven’t opted for Netbanking don’t send email statements b
The Drama Continues, The person says He is the Sub Registrar, no he is not outsourced, he himself is the Sub Registrar
1. Says it's done you can download
2. I asked how come it worked now - says we are verifying with Cremation Ground
3. I asked should this not have been done by now
4. Login - It is still stuck
5. Says Send Docs and Press Docs
6. Same Status
It is clear that only thing @MCD_Delhi can do is trouble citizen, I also dont understand why he only wants to talk on phone (we all do though) What do you say @LtGovDelhi@CMODelhi@gupta_rekha - it's embarassing that for 40 Years I have been paying taxes in India, and yet no one can fix a service, you guys broke it - it is so sad
Imagine losing your mother's health, your business, and your only source of income in less than 10 seconds.
Yesterday, a young girl who sells vada pav outside our building was busy preparing and serving vada pav with her mother, just like every other day.
Then disaster struck.
A speeding, uncontrolled auto-rickshaw crashed straight into their cart.
The cart was destroyed.
Her mother's leg was fractured.
Their only source of income disappeared instantly.
The driver was caught by locals and eventually handed over just ₹2,000 before leaving.
₹2,000 for a shattered business and a hospitalized mother.
In the evening, I went to the spot where I buy vada pav almost every day.
The girl was sitting there.
No customers.
No cart.
Just tears.
She told me her mother had been admitted to the hospital. The treatment would cost around ₹35,000 and the cart needed another ₹3,000 to be repaired.
Then she said something I'll never forget:
"I don't know how we'll survive now."
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
So today, I spoke to a few friends in my building.
Within hours, 8 of us contributed ₹5,000 each.
₹40,000 in total.
When we handed over the money, she started crying.
But what happened next shocked me even more.
She offered us a post-dated cheque and promised to return every rupee after two months.
A family that had just lost everything was still worried about paying people back.
We refused.
We told her:
"Take care of your mother. Restart your business. Return it whenever you can."
Moments like these restore my faith in people.
The world often feels selfish.
But sometimes, ordinary people come together and remind us that humanity is still alive.
I hope the next time I stop at her cart, it's because she's back to selling the best vada pav in the area.
If you believe kindness still exists, share this story.