Six hours to find missing Relatives – What Helped?

As part of a CSR activity at a multinational IT organization, I decided to join a task force, heading to a Mental Health Center in Thiruvananthapuram. It was the first time I was getting involved in any such activity. We were a team of 6 people – 2 of them regular activists and 4 of us new adventurers. Life today is much easy with Google on every cell phone, an accessory that almost everyone carries everywhere. We helped the first-time cab driver, navigate to the health centre with Google Maps as our Pide Piper. The health centre had a layout divided into small wards of independent houses built on a spread of 2.5 acres of land. Inside the campus, cell phone networks were strong, however, the data services stopped and so did our dependence on Google. 

On my first assignment, the hospital staff gave me the case of a man of whose language they had identified as Hindi. Thanks, to my upbringing in Orissa, where I had the opportunity to mingle with Gujarati, Bengali, Punjabi, Tamil and Bihari folks apart from the local Odia population. My mind like that of many others can decipher multiple Indian languages, and so while talking to him, I immediately dismissed him as a Hindi speaking guy. The guy could only mumble, and his talks were muddled. He had long been barely understood, and that probably made him shout loud when a question was repeated. It reaction gave me clue on how to get words with some clarity from him. With each repeated question, I gained confidence in communicating with him, and he got interested in opening up to me as he saw a puzzle solver unravel him.

Technological dependence instigated me to take a break, and try to decipher the place names that I could gather from the conversation with him. If I were able to locate the places, I could know the region or the state and identify the language I was hearing. I could understand him to a reasonably helpful degree. However, we needed more details, to make use of the information gathered. Trying to make the mobile respond to Google Map search turned futile. I had to return to making use of my senses. The conversation details rambled in my head. I decided that I would consider his language to be Bhojpuri. That noun stumbled upon, I recollected my school friend who spoke Bhojpuri. Thanks to a recent God-given chance to have met him in person, I had his current contact details. Talking to my friend, the place names were confirmed, and indeed the language identification was authenticated as Bhojpuri.

Back at my workplace, I discovered that my access to client systems had been revoked - being between project allocations. That left me with the desire to search for details for my CSR case on Google. As I scanned the areas mentioned by the patients and saw details of the area, I was getting clues on what could be the questions for the second round of interview with the patients. Soon, the reactions of the patient also returned to my head, and it dawned upon me that he had a very bold and proud voice when he mentioned a Police Station in the area. It dawned upon me that the patient could have bragged about being from that area all his life, and could be staying very close, and knowing people there. Another recollection of him laughing uncontrollably when he mentioned a tea or wine shop run by his brother, made me think that that could be the next clue to work upon.

Google had the police station number on offer, however, that number was switched off. Next, I zeroed in on a Chhat (Indian Junk food) shop number. Could this be the tea shop that the patient was mentioning? There were not many other updates on Google in that area. Only a call and a word could solve the puzzle. However, to the utter dismay of the Chhat shop owner, I had woken him up from his extended midday nap. To top it up, I was speaking, not in his dialect of the Language we spoke. He felt a prank was being played, and verbal abuse was the first tool he tried to dissuade from me, the caller. But his behaviour sowed a seed of persistence in me. To tickle his mind into action, I mentioned a few names of places and people to strike a cord of harmony with him. However, he was more furious and wanted to know how I had found his contact number.

Stick to the truth and the truth will strike the cord of harmony that you desire. I told him that his number was taken from Google Map. The mention of Google calmed him down. He was excited that someone had read his update on Google. He transformed into a decent guy and started talking to his wife, checking with her on the names that I had mentioned. He gained all his senses and declared that the missing guy was his ex-neighbour. He knew the name of the brother that the patient had revealed. His mother’s name matched. The patient's profession as a supplier of bottles at Buxarstation was confirmed and the burn mark on his body also matched the description of this ex-neighbours.

Every detail that was heard, seen and observed helped with the support from Google. It was a jubilant moment. The memory of it would stay forever.