My experience in one of the remote villages of India’s North East was that when my car broke down the villagers helped me with a mechanic from the nearest town some 22 KMs (13.7 Miles) away. A young man drove his motorbike to bring the mechanic on his pillion. Another villager arranged accommodation for me to spend the night comfortably. The three course dinner I had with the community that night had fish from the community pond, vegetables from their kitchen gardens, and the brew made from native rice. We had a bone fire party where the young people and the older citizens danced to the tune of folk music. A car breakdown turned into a complete celebration of life. There was entrepreneurship here, no one took risk, there was not much talent involved and the resources available were scattered. It was the environment that the community built over the years that spread the spirit of social entrepreneurship.
Back in New Delhi, I came across a person who initiated a road safety campaign, triggered by the accidental death of his 16 year old niece. While heading back home from the school this young girl was hit by a car and was profusely bleeding for a quarter of an hour. None of the passers by took note of her including the police. A gentleman saw a bleeding body struggling to hold on to life and discovered that she was the best friend of his daughter. He quickly carried her to the nearest hospital. She was declared brought dead.
After hearing this story and that remote village experience, I thought to myself as to why did the car not hit her in that village! The thought was bizarre but my mind had no other options. Another thought that disturbs me every morning is that - is it the money that is dividing our race to this extent?