TimesofIndia.com in London: It was close to midnight, and the overhead train line was about to reach Northwick Park Station — my final destination. The match had ended at Lord’s a few hours earlier, and after a quick bite and a lot of walking near Tower Bridge with my colleagues covering the Anderson-Tendulkar Trophy, everyone dispersed in their respective directions.My stretch didn’t overlap with anyone, so I covered the last leg of the journey home alone — just like I had the past week in London. Northwick Park Station wears a deserted look during the midnight hours, but I had never felt anything suspicious over the past week. Monday night, however, turned out to be different.Right after leaving the station, I took the exit towards my accommodation at Lulworth Avenue and continued to hum my favourite songs. It felt like business as usual before I took the immediate turn from the station and saw five men, in their 20s, approaching me. Right from their body language to how they covered half their faces with balaclavas — nothing felt right about that moment.I froze instantly because I had a lot of expensive equipment on me: a laptop, two cell phones, and personal belongings. Two of the five started walking towards me while the other three continued walking to the station to keep a watch on the road. The scene felt straight out of a Bollywood movie in the residential neighbourhood, which wasn’t generously lit.
I was immediately reminded of my travelling colleagues being ill-treated and abused by drunk hooligans before the day’s play began. And here I was, at the heart of it, alone, in the wee hours of the night.The first reaction was to take a few steps back, and that’s when one of them charged aggressively and said, “Calm down, bro. We just want to talk.” Of course, this was hardly the moment to remain calm because I knew what was next. The very next second, the second guy asked me for the camera because I was carrying a bulky tripod in my hand.When they didn’t get the ideal response from me, one of them implored me to remove the smartwatch from my left wrist. It was then that I started yelling as adrenaline and panic took over. As one of the masked men reached for a knife in his jacket, I gave the tripod a wild swing, and they took a few steps back.In that split moment, I started running for my life — quite literally — and yelled the choicest expletives in Punjabi, hoping someone from the nearby houses would come for help. While none of that happened, one guy chased me for 50m — which felt much longer — before he took a U-turn as the next neighbourhood was better lit.
Still shaken, the first thing I did was call my wife, who was deep in sleep because it was close to 5am IST. But I needed to hear a familiar voice then, and when I regained composure, the next call went to my colleagues with whom I was sharing the accommodation.In a split second, they rushed to my location, calmed me down, and together we walked home. I was still in a state of shock because it was a narrow escape from a mugging — or worse.Numerous thoughts circled in my head. What if they had managed to get the knife out? Materialistically, what if they had taken my valuables — some personal and some official? What if they had gotten away with my passport as well?The thoughts kept crossing my mind, but in that moment I looked at my tripod and smiled. I had cursed it the moment I took the flight to England because it had cost me Rs. 9,000 in excess baggage charges due to the size. Yet, here I was. On my last day in London, that piece of metal saved my life, equipment, and belongings.
