In 2005, Gurudev had gone from city to city, all around the world, inviting everyone to come to India - for the first World Culture Festival in Bangalore, India.

For many of us, including me, the scale of the program that he was describing was nearly impossible to imagine. Very enthusiastically, he would say, “There will be 2.5 million people!” and my mind would just go blank - I just could not imagine.

My parents lived in the northern part of India at the time. I had booked my travel to be with them, and then the three of us - Mom, Dad, and I - took a flight to Bangalore. 

I had booked a hotel through the organizers of the WCF for the three of us. I was expecting that I would have other folks from the US at the same hotel.

At the same time, I had this intuition that in an event of this scale - something the world had never witnessed before - it was entirely possible that some things would not go according to plan.

We checked into our hotel. I started to speak with the manager on duty. I found out that every other room in the hotel was occupied by Russians. Go figure!

There were buses that ferried all of us from the city - from the different hotels and hostels that people were staying in - to the airfield outside town where the event was. I distinctly remember thinking - so many hundreds of buses - that too in India - and no traffic jams!

People were genuinely happy - just happy to be there - witnessing history being created - and being a part of this magnificent event.

On the second day, something very interesting happened. 

As we got back from the event, I saw that one of the guests from Russia had a very worried look on his face, and he was pacing up and down the hotel corridor.

Since I spoke zero Russian, I just asked the manager on duty what was up. The manager said, “He has lost his little carry bag. The bag had everything - passport, money, ID - everything that he needed to get back home.”

Out of habit - and also out of my strong faith - I said to him, “Don’t worry. It’ll get sorted out.”

I didn’t know how, but I just knew it would.

With that, I walked up the stairs to my room. It was late - past 10 p.m. - and my parents were tired. So we all went to bed.

At 6:30 a.m. the next morning, there was a knock on my door. 

We had barely woken up, and I was not expecting anyone to show up at my door.
Rubbing my eyes, I opened the door, and there was the manager on duty (different from the one from the previous night) with another gentleman holding up a bag.

Not a bag - THE bag.

THE bag that belonged to the gentleman from Russia.
 
THE bag that contained his passport, his money, and all his documents.

The gentleman holding the bag was a taxi driver. The Russian gentleman had taken a ride on that taxi from the train station to the hotel.

When the taxi driver saw the bag, he said to himself, “Gurudev has invited the world to our city. Whoever this bag belongs to must be looking for it.”

The taxi driver had gone back to every ride he had done that day and eventually got to our hotel at 6:30 in the morning.

In the early 2000s, India was not a place known for honest taxi drivers. Having grown up in India, this incident came as a real shock to me - I was surprised, and touched by the warm-heartedness and love of the taxi driver.

I also didn’t understand why they knocked on my door. Apparently, the new manager on duty didn’t know how to locate the gentleman to whom the bag belonged. Since I was the only Indian guest in the hotel, they came to me!

The three of us - the taxi driver, the manager on duty, and I - went to the gentleman’s room and gave him his bag. 

To this day, I remember the joy on his face!

When people come together with the shared intention of creating peace, magic happens. 

Magic will again be created, this time when we all get together for the fourth World Culture Festival in DC. 

The only relevant question is - will you be there to experience it for yourself?