By the time we reached Bhanjnagar , Santhosh’s confidence level had risen and it was clear we were on the right path. When we got down, he led me confidently, taking turns to the right and left. It was obvious that he knew Bhanjnagar well.
Santhosh borrowed 100 rupees from me and bought puffed rice, biscuits, fruits, mixture and a cloth bag for this family. I was emotionally touched by this gesture.
His house was 3 kms away and we could have walked. I led the way to an auto. While I was asking the driver to talk to Santhosh and find out the exact location, Santhosh rushed to the next auto and said, ‘This will go’.
I was thinking what difference does it make which auto we take. The first auto- driver said, ‘You should take that auto. It belongs to the village he was referring to’. There was a cell-phone number written on the auto and I dialed it and gave the phone to Santhosh.
Santhosh said, ‘ Bhaiya. Kalia bhaiya. Mai Babu bol raha hoon.’ ( Kalia brother. I am Babu speaking. )
In response, I guess, a question was repeated. ‘Which Babu ?’ Santhosh was explaining his identity.
When he gave the phone back to me, I saw someone running towards us from afar. He said something to Santhosh and then touched him from head to toe. Santhosh was crying and wiping away the tears while they talked. After this emotional reunion, I suppose he asked Santhosh, ‘How did you come back?’

Santhosh said something pointing to me. At once, the auto driver hugged me. ‘Can you take us to Santhosh’s house?’ I asked him. He replied,’ Of course. Of course. We belong to the same village.’
During the 3 kms journey, the auto stopped at least 10 times. Santhosh would get down, greet the elders, touch their feet and take their blessing. I don’t know in what way they were related to him. A man wearing a large hat was approaching and the auto stopped beside him. When the auto driver told him something, he leaned into the auto and kissed Santhosh who was by now crying. The old man was also crying and Santhosh took out his handkerchief and wiped his tears. Without disturbing the emotional reunion, I asked the driver,’ Who is he? He replied,’ His father’.
A crowd had gathered on the street where Santhosh’s family lived. Obviously the driver had made a few calls announcing Santhosh’s return. When we entered the village, we were welcomed as if the auto was a temple cart and they were the devotees waiting to greet God.
Then a woman, obviously his mother emerged from the crowd and hugged Santhosh and cried. About a hundred people hugged him and he touched their feet. This was the most emotional and affectionate reunion.