114. Value of Money

“Don’t ask what money can do? It can buy you Pizza and Coke.”

I read that line about a decade ago; I felt that it is telling only partial truth. The value of money is much more than these mundane things.

“What is the value of money?” is obviously a strange question. The value of money is clearly pointed on the note/coin/currency that we use. Even non school going kids can identity various coins and notes and know its capacity (and limits) to purchase things. What we do not generally understand is that the ‘Purchase Power’ changes from place to place. I am not talking about the changes happening due to currency – like when one visits Europe or US of A. There too the value changes have many socio-economic dimensions. But even within India the value of money changes.

I know, you don’t believe in this statement. Even I would not have believed in it had I not this experience!

When I first visited Chitrakut (to be more specific Karvi, the district place) I faced the problem of local travel to a great extent. Chitrakut being a religious place was always crowded. But in such cases, people travel in large groups. The Government Guest House where I was staying in; was about 15 kilometers away from my office, so traveling everyday was a must. Even with such a large number of visitors to the city, the public transport system did not exist then. People were left to the mercy of private transport. All the parties, the local administration, the local transporters and the people seemed to be satisfied with the arrangements – and all was peaceful. It was weird to call that ‘peaceful’ because every day I saw hundreds of people (all men) with their gun on their shoulders. The gunmen drinking cup of tea; the gunmen laughing loudly on joke; the gunmen consuming food together was a common scenario.

My colleagues were naturally concerned about my safety and security. One of them used to pick me up in the morning; and someone would drop me in the evening on their motorbike. But I was concerned that just to ‘take care of me’ people had to travel 30 kilometers extra – which I thought was a waste of their time and organizational money. And by that time, I was so frequently visiting the place, that I was no more a complete stranger to the local situation.

One option was to take a ‘six seater’ auto rickshaw. Of course, here ‘six seater’ is just a name given to that particular vehicle. Unless and until there were 15 passengers, the vehicle won’t start. Being part of crowd is one thing, but being part of crowd where people are drunk and smoke .. I was finding it difficult to travel. Being an only woman in the crowd worsened the matters many times. With all this, I had to take another 15 minutes walk or take a bicycle rickshaw to reach my office. That added not only cost but time too. Once I traveled the 15 kilometer distance by bicycle rickshaw – but it took such a long time and I was feeling guilty while looking at the tired face of the bicycle rickshaw man!

I was no doubt trying to figure out the best way to travel from the guest house to the office. One morning, one six seater rickshaw driver was waiting for passengers. I asked him, “How many passengers sit in the front?” He looked at me very strangely. He told, “Sit there, the front seat is empty now”. But I asked the same question again. Without much elaboration he answered “three” – meaning three passengers sit in the front row – at the side of the driver. Then he asked me where exactly I wanted to go. I replied. Then he started shouting “five rupees seat, five rupees seat” in search of more passengers.

I told the driver,” I will sit in the front portion. I will pay you for three passengers, don’t allow anyone else to occupy the front seat.” The driver was confused. Here the custom was - if a group traveled together, they would negotiate with the driver and get concession for one or two people. He did not understand why I was ready to pay for three persons when I was traveling alone! My calculations were indeed simple. By spending ten rupees extra, I was trying to gain some comfort, some convenience. However, in that area, to have extra ten rupees to spend, was a luxury. And to spend ten rupees extra was a sign of richness.

I was constantly trying to convince the driver about this arrangement and he was not convinced. He was just smiling and chose to ignore me. When the security person of the guest house saw that I was talking to the auto driver for a long time, he rushed in to find out the problem and to help me. He listened to my proposal seriously and told to the driver, “Madam is from Bombay.” That worked as a magic.

That was a scene which was watched by many for the next few years. A woman sitting alone in the front of a six seater rickshaw! After every two minutes, the rickshaw would stop to accommodate new passengers; people would rush to the front seat with joy as they saw only one lady sitting there; the driver used to shout – “go to the backside”; the passengers kept wondering why they are not allowed to sit in front and why the driver is taking his rickshaw empty! Then some passenger sitting in the back (in the crowd of another ten people) would whisper, “Madam is from Bombay” – as if that was the sufficient explanation! And it always proved to be a sufficient explanation. But still someone would add, “She is traveling alone, but paying for the other two seats too.” That was beyond anybody’s understanding. The wondered, they gossiped, they looked at me, and they thought various thoughts.

Then it became a routine. It was a win-win situation. It was convenient to me, because by just paying additional ten rupees, I was able to travel more comfortably – saving trouble of my colleagues to pick and drop me. The auto drivers had to wait less for two passengers. Initially they had apprehensions, but once they realized that I pay those ten additional rupees, they were enthusiastic to have me.

I was conscious that I was lucky that I had those ten extra rupees to spend. I never asked passengers to get down and go to the backside, if someone was already sitting in the front, I would not take that auto. But auto drivers knew my time of travel, so they themselves would ask passengers to make the front portion free. None of the passengers ever objected to it. Nobody said, “She might have money, so what?” No one told me to “travel by your own car” if you want so much luxury!

During the four and half year period, I visited Chitrakut area at least 25 times, and the local journey was made in this fashion – by paying for two more persons!

Actually I tried to purchase comfort of ten rupees, but in the process I realized that I was having ‘Power’ of ‘Ten Rupees’. It was not an unlimited power – it was limited, it was gross but it was also subtle! The power of money is not about what is indicated on the currency – it is always about what it can give you in comparison with others! When we earn money (and we always want more money), we are certainly aware of this subtle nature of power that money brings in. The urge to happiness is natural, is also the urge for power natural? I do not know.

Can we do away with the urge of power? Because what I have experienced (and you too might have experienced) is once we start comparing ourselves with others, the happiness and satisfaction wane. Money is no doubt needed for food, clothes, shelter, education, entertainment, health! But it is up to us to decide how much we want and if we can stop running after money, we may be less powerful... but in reality we become more powerful!

The value of money is much wider, subtler and deeper than it appears!
**

113. Lost and …

I can never forget that announcement at Allahabad Station. It was constantly mentioning one term ‘Bhule Bhatke Shivir’ – ‘A temporary place for people who are lost’. It was the Kumbha Melaa time and my colleagues had interesting versions to tell me about this Bhule Bhatke Shivir. It was mainly for the people, mainly old people who were lost in the crowd. My colleagues told me that many people bring their old parents to visit Kumbha, tell them to wait at one spot in the name of fetching some food or water etc and they never return back. The old people wait for, hope for, they are not able to tell the exact name of their village, block, district etc. These old people are deliberately ‘lost’ by their younger ones and they never are ‘found’.

The term ‘Lost and Found’ was not new to me then. I have been a member of organizing team for many events – Rallies, Camps, Treks, Meetings, Functions, Surveys, Protest Marches, and Excursions etc. On each of these occasions, we needed a person to take care of ‘Lost and Found’ section. People can lose anything when they are in a crowd – from their young children to money purse, from their railway pass to identity card, from pen to pin… anything on the earth. (I am not counting psychological aspects of such loss here - loss of mind and loss of identity! They are dealt with in another world – the world of Gurus and Spirituality. I never had much to do with those kinds of places.) The ‘Lost and Found’ section according to me was always a place of amusement. It was a place of a drama in real life. It was a place where all emotions could be seen in its most intense form.

But I hardly ever got to be stationed at the ‘Lost and Found’ section. The responsibility was generally given to one of the elder persons in the group. We used to call this group ‘Retired but not Tired’. They had enthusiasm enough but not the physical energy to be on their toes all the time. So, the running here and there job was done by youngsters and the elders sat at the table. Now looking back I realize that we actually needed mature persons to handle the situation. Old people with experience of life probably can handle the situation better (I am not saying that all old people are mature and all youngsters are immature.) The joy of those who found what they had lot must have been a treat to watch. However not everybody is lucky to find back what is lost, and their despair one cannot watch objectively.

Each one of us has lost something which we never found back. After understanding the announcement at the Allahabad station, I was happy that I never had to take the responsibility of the ‘Lost and Found’ section. It is not that I cannot stand pain – I have seen a lot of it, it is not that I cannot live with disappointment – I have that too in life. But somehow to manage one’s own affair is easier than managing feeling, emotions, and life of others.

It is not easy when one goes through the experience, when it actually happens!

It is bit ironic; but I am more attached to places than persons! May be I can afford to be myself with places. With persons, one has to compromise sometimes; though luckily not all the times and not with all the persons I meet! And I have found managing my affair with places a little difficult than managing loss of connection with persons.

I remember one such moment.

I visited my college after a decade. I had spent five eventful years there. I was so attached to that place once – lot of friends, lot of dreams, lot of passion, lot of debate and discussions,.. so much was associated with that place. I went with expectation to recapture those moments. Suddenly I realized that I was alien to the place. The building was the same – with some modification, there was a crowd, but I stood alone there, without any connection with that place. I could have met some teachers, office clerks, and peons…. But I did not feel like meeting anyone of them. I understood that the college building has no place for me and it was better to withdraw from that!

And I can recall many more such places in my life. The loss of connection happens all the while.

People and Places come in life, become friend, become integral part of life, you share with them a lot of things and one fine morning you realize that the connection, the relationship is lost. Some connections die suddenly, some die a slow and painful death.

Reason? For no apparent reason.

There is an advantage in some things which are Lost and Never Found.

Because sometimes when you find those lost things again, you are disappointed. You do not have the same bliss and peace with those things again as once you used to have. Some things are actually better Lost forever than Found.

May be that is the reason I do not mourn losses – of places, of persons.

I create new connections, I nurture new relationships, and I re-invest in living with the same innocence, same trust, and same enthusiasm.

I have Lost myself so many times through the series of such happenings!

And I have Found myself again and again!

And to tell you the truth, I have changed so much in the process.

So, I, my life can be termed as “Lost and Never Found!”

112. The Mystery

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 17; the seventeenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

“Dadu, speak out, don’t keep quiet,” Namita pleaded.

Dadu was Deepankar, Namita’s elder brother. She was three years younger to him, but Dadu and Namita were very close to each other, as if they were twins. They had no secrets from each other – till recently, Namita bitterly thought. Something was troubling Deepankar, and he was not sharing it with Namita.

Dadu did not speak. He just looked at his sister. Clearly he was in two minds. For a moment, Deepankar was ready to speak, however he controlled himself.

“Dadu, please…,” Namita was almost in tears. She was frightened by his stare. What must be troubling him, Namita could not think of. Deepankar had a very good job, was happy, had good friend circle, steady relationship with Ashwini – their proposed marriage was accepted by Deepanakr’s and Ashwini’s families very recently. Namita knew Deepankar had no addictions. What could be the problem? Namita stared back at her loving brother. Deepankar did not say anything and stormed out of the room.

“Now where has Deepu gone like that? Did you fight with him again? You are such a spoilt girl, you even make your simple brother angry…..,” that was certainly grandmother speaking. She loved Deepankar more and could never digest the fact that everyone loved Namita too, in spite of her being a girl.

“Oh! Grandma, nothing. He is in a hurry,” Namita tried to explain. Her cell phone rang at the right time and she could excuse herself.

‘What is the mystery?’ Namita kept on thinking.

*****************************************

That evening the family had a small conference. Everyone had noted that something was troubling their Deepu, and everyone was anxious to support him. Problem was; nobody knew what exactly the issue was and what kind of support Deepankar needed.

“Did you talk to him?” Papa asked Namita.

“For God’s sake, why don’t you directly speak to him? Man to Man talk might be better,” Ma as usual had different opinion than Father.

“Had he any fight with Ashwini, lately?” Ma added hopefully but taking precaution that she sounded anxious. She had never much liked the idea of Deepankar getting married to Ashwini. She had chosen one of her friend’s daughters for that role. But alas! There was nothing wrong in Ashwini too and hence she had to accept Deepankar’s choice.

“Not that I know off. In fact, here comes Ashwini, you can ask her,” added Namita bluntly knowing well her Ma’s destroyed wish.

Ashwini joined. She immediately understood what the conference was all about. She added fuel in the fire with right tone and right words. No, she did not know what Deepankar was worried about and he had been avoiding speaking to her on that subject. In fact, in the last two weeks Deepankar had not spent his usual Saturday evenings with Ashwini. She had come to ask Namita what was wrong with Deepankar.

Now that caused more trouble in that small conference.

“Is he losing his job?” Pa thought aloud.

“Pa, you forget that just ten days ago he told us that his office is sending him to some conference for Paper Presentation,” Namita was feeling hopeless with the discussion.

“Nobody believes in me. This year you did not worship Lord Ganesha properly, see the result. Our golden boy is suffering now….,” grandma’s direction was as expected. Whatever good happened in the family was due to God’s Grace according to her. Logically, whatever problems, troubles came, it was God’s punishment.

“Everything was done properly. Now, don’t you start that discussion again! You should understand that times have changed,” Pa was really angry with his mother. Right from childhood, he had to spend lot of time in worship and rituals. He hated that.

Grandma said, “I am worried about Deepu, nothing else.” Everybody kept quiet on that. Nobody knew how to break the silence.

That was done by Anil, Deepankar’s childhood friend. He entered whistling as usual and was happy to see all – especially Namita. “Where is your Prince Charming?” he teased Ashwini. With a frown he realized that the atmosphere was not cheery as usual. “Is everything alright?” he asked cautiously.

“Anil might know,” Pa said.

“What is it Uncle that you want to know?” Anil was now confused. He looked at Ashwini. He now feared that the news was of break up between Deepankar and Ashwini. He never had imagined that.

“Has Deepankar been smoking or drinking lately?” Namita’s father asked solemnly.

Anil was caught in two minds. He knew that the family did not know of Deepankar’s latest habits and new infatuations. A drink is necessary for socialization, but he was sure the old generation won’t appreciate this fact. He did not want to betray his friend. His silence made everyone uncomfortable. Sensing that, Anil hastily added, “Oh! Why do you think so?”

Father and Mother became more anxious with this evasive answer. A tear rolled down on Ashwini’s cheek. Namita sharply looked at him. There was a clear question in her eyes: “you too?” which Anil wanted not to notice. Grandmother said something which nobody could properly hear.

“Now, Anil, I am asking you a question. Instead of answering, you are questioning me back. How do you expect me to interpret your answer?” Father shot back.

“See Anil, Deepankar is neither eating properly, nor sleeping well and he is not speaking to any one of us. We are all worried. Do you know what is troubling him?” Ma added politely. She did not want to hurt her future son in law - though that idea was taking shape in her mind only very recently.

Anil was confused. Yes, he remembered that Deepankar had been very introvert during last fortnight. He was not seen on Orkut, not on Facebook. Anil recalled that there was not a single Twit from Deepankar in the last 10 days. He also remembered that the cows were not milked on Deepankar’s Farm and the Artichokes were weathered on his farm. Deepankar had not sent any SMS lately. It struck to Anil for the first time that something was indeed wrong with his dear friend. How can one live without virtual presence?

“Namita, bring Deepu’s bank passbook. I want to know,” Pa ordered.

“Oh! Papa, you can’t do this. This is not fair. Let us wait and talk to him. You can’t treat him like a kid or a culprit,” Namita cried.

Silence followed. Everyone had some idea but was ashamed to share the ghastly idea with others.

The Mystery was looming over the room and the minds of all those people, who loved Deepankar.

******************************

Deepankar was very happy. He could not wait for the elevator. He took two steps at a time and was surprised to see the home door open. He was still more surprised to see such a crowd in the hall. But he was happy to see them all at that moment. He wanted to share his joy with them.

“Hey, here is a surprise for all of you,” he shouted.

He did not notice that they all exchanged hurried looks.

“I got 150 votes and First Prize.” Deepankar laughed loudly and shook Anil physically with tremendous joy. He wanted to hug Ashwini, but suddenly realized that his parents were there and so controlled himself in time and captured the second option. He was so happy that any stranger even would do.

“What?” everybody screamed. That was followed by more confusing remarks.

“My Goodness!” Father remarked.

“Oh! It is only that…” Mother said.

“You are stupid,” Ashwini murmured.

“Oh! You know that for the last two months I am writing a blog. I participated in a competition my post was selected for the first award. 150 votes and First Award! Imagine the success! Hurrah.. You know what I wrote…” Deepankar was in high spirits. Without listening to any of those remarks, he continued.

Suddenly Deepankar realized that nobody was paying attention to him; everyone looked relieved rather than happy. He looked at Namita for explanation. She was controlling her laughter. Anil was grinning. Father looked at Namita and she started laughing loudly. Everybody joined.

Only Grandma seemed to be glad and touched him on his head. She said something about Lord Ganesha.

“Oh! This is my first award in Writing and they don’t even bother to congratulate me!” Deepankar sighed.

“What is this Mystery?” Deepankar asked himself. However he spoke loudly in his anxiety.

“Oh! Nothing…” everybody said unanimously.

“Come Dadu, write a blog post about this experience,” Namita said. Everybody laughed and disappeared in different directions. Even Ashwini went to kitchen with his mother, Anil and Namita went together ….

Leaving Deepankar alone; wondering about The Mystery of the laughter; of Ashwini and Mother joining hands; about Namita and Anil…

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

111. Free Lunch

“There is no such thing as a Free Lunch” is a popular saying – which indicates that for everything apparently free, one has to pay a price – directly or indirectly. The term often appears in Economic Discussions – and has serious connotations than this post is trying to portray. The concept has Ecological as well as Scientific implications. Broadly speaking, I agree with this term – when it is seriously discussed.

However, I cannot help smiling whenever I read this phrase or hear someone casually referring to it.

Simply because: I have had hundreds of Free Lunches. I had them in the past; I still seem to have those coming to me and I guess they will come to me in future also.

I am of course not referring to my friends who often offer me “Free Lunch.” The moment I enter into their house, the first question they ask is, “when did you have your last food?”

The question is just rhetoric. Because even before I think ‘what would be the appropriate answer, ’they present me a plate full of food which is followed by tea/coffee/milk.. whatever they think I like. None of my friends have ever expected any return in the process. Even when they visit my home, most of them plan it in such a way that they bring major food. I have to arrange just for daal-chaawal and may be drinking water. I have many such “Free Lunches”.

What my friends in return want is: I should be happy.

Generally speaking we all do our duties appropriately: I mean they feed me and I remain happy. When one is well fed, one is happy.

Interestingly I meet lot of strangers, who have offered me “Free Lunch”.

Once I was traveling to Nagpur by Maharashtra Express. The train is ‘Express’ for namesake only as it takes more than 19 hours to reach Nagpur. I always thought it to be the worst train – but I found another worse one – worst than Maharashtra Express – that is Shalimar Express – a Mumbai Howrah train. But about it sometime later.

The train (Maharashtra Express) leaves Pune in the night at about 11.00. I had a hectic week ahead and I had just come out of another hectic week. Some work related things were becoming stressful than I could manage. I had not slept well for almost a week because I was reading an interesting book. Altogether I was tired. The train reaches Nagpur at 3.00 in the afternoon, it has no pantry car, and nothing interesting is available on the platform food stalls. I often skip eating during travels.

So, after the TT checked tickets at 11.30 in the night, I decided that I will sleep well and get up only at about 2.00 next afternoon.

So I slept. And I always sleep well.

I suddenly woke up because an elderly lady was lightly shaking me. I woke up with a start. The woman in her 60s, smiled at me. She was bit shy. “Are you not feeling well?” she asked. “Oh! I am perfectly alright,” I answered, still confused about what business she had with me. “Do you need any help? Is everything alright with you?” I asked, thinking that she needed some kind of help.

Then the woman was mischievously smiling. She said, “If you are alright, just wake up. It is already 12.00 in the afternoon and I am worried because you are still sleeping. Get fresh and come back.” I was astonished with the order. I am not used to taking orders – neither do I give orders. But anyway, I had enough sleep and thought it would be interesting to chat with this elderly woman.

The moment I was ready for a nice chat, she opened her Tiffin box, filled a paper plate with homemade food and offered me. She had two more plates – one for herself and one for her husband. I was surprised. She explained, “My daughter stays at Amaravati. She arranged to send fresh food at the platform.”

I was not comfortable with the idea of consuming food offered by strangers. I said, “Oh! Thanks and please go ahead. I am not hungry.”

On that Uncle laughed and laughed loudly which made me feel guilty. He said, “When traveling we feel more hungry. And you are younger than us; you are just like our daughter. How can we eat without you? Come, join us. You must be hungry now.”

I was touched by their simplicity. And I realized that I had my last food more than 24 hours ago. I was deadly hungry. I ate with relish. They enjoyed that scene. Uncle opened thermos and offered me a hot cup of coffee. That was ultimate luxury. I had another cup of coffee with pleasure.

Then we were properly introduced to each other – formal name, occupation etc. They invited me to visit their home at Nagpur. I accepted the invitation with a smile –knowing fully well that we may never meet again.

I can talk about at least fifty such experiences. The co-traveler, a man in his 30s; was feeding me all the way from Pune to Kanyakumari. We had interesting talk about Thiruvantantpuram, Pune, his kids, his parents, his wife, my job, my association with Kanyakumari and so on. An elderly couple: sharing homemade food with me at Hyderabad airport – we chatted about their son and grandchildren. It was their first flight, so we talked about flying experience.

So many such incidences! Sometimes I wonder that there is something written on my face that makes people (even strangers) to feed me with love and care.

In these cases, there is no prior bond, there is no expectation, there is no further relationship.. and still I am offered a “Free Lunch”. These are completely “Free” for me.

I am not sure about the social and environmental costs though!

110. Wrong Choice

I am in a crowded market area. Like all cities, this city also has a parking problem. The area reserved for parking is never sufficient for the growing number of two wheelers and four wheelers. So, common people park wherever space is available and pray for luck. The Traffic Police van with its subcontracted young men in the vehicle moves on and picks up vehicles that are parked beyond the reserved area. I have hardly seen a traffic police in these vans.

A two wheeler is parked outside the marked area. This time a policeman is there and he orders the men in the vehicle to pick up the vehicle. He is marking the space by chalk – generally the name of the police station is written there by the police so that the vehicle owner knows where to go and pay the fine.

A woman rushes in. She has just missed it for few seconds. She pleads to the policeman. He says, “Sorry, I cannot help. Go to this place, pay the fine and get back your two wheeler.” He signals the van to move on. But those young guys choose to stay.

The woman, in her 30s is furious. She starts shouting. She complains about the lack of space for parking. Suddenly she realizes that the time is running out. She opens her purse. She takes a fifty rupee note and offers it to the policeman. It is clearly a bribe. The policeman refuses – maybe he is sincere or maybe there are many onlookers – I do not know. But the fact is that he refuses to accept that fifty rupee note. The woman insists, she pleads, she requests, she apologizes.

I can’t help taking part in the action. I politely say, “Madam, please don’t offer any bribe to him. As he is suggesting, go to that place, pay fine, get receipt and get your vehicle back. It is a matter of just 10 minutes.”

The policeman looks gratefully at me.

But the woman snubs me, “It is none of your business. Get away”. She screams at me.

Everybody around laughs at me. Even the men in the pickup vehicle laugh loudly. I feel insulted.

The loud laugh of the young men gives the woman a better idea.

She rushes to the pickup vehicle. Offers a fifty rupee note. There is some sort of negotiation. She adds two more ten rupee notes. The woman gets her two-wheeler back. She gives a triumphant look to the policeman. She turns towards me and gives me a wicked smile.

The policeman looks at me helplessly. I avoid him and turn back. I do not have the courage to share the wound of the policeman.

Another time. Another place. Another situation. Another set of people.

I am sitting in a conference hall. There are four LCD monitors for the presentation, more than three AC are running on, chairs are luxurious, everything is luxurious. There are more than 20 chairs in the conference room. But ours is a meeting of a very small group. We are just six people. The meeting is yet to start.

As is the custom, water, tea and biscuits are ordered to the office canteen. A man from canteen arrives and starts placing water bottles in front of every chair. I know that only six of us are expected for the meeting. I bring it to the notice of the concerned person.

He tells the canteen man, “We are only six. We do not need so many water bottles. Take away rest of those.”

“Sir, you seem to be new here,” the canteen man replies calmly. “This is the way things are done here. Drink as much water as you want and leave the rest to me to manage.” He smiles and moves on.

My colleague is helpless. He avoids looking at me. I avoid any eye contact with him. Both of us feel guilty. After few minutes when another colleague arrives, we feel relieved.

I know this is a clear case of corruption. For provision of six water bottles, a bill for 25 water bottles would be put forward and approved. Everybody will have his/her share in it.

However, I am helpless again. I can do nothing in this situation.

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It always starts on a small scale.
Then we ignore it; sometimes due to sheer lack of pro-activeness; sometimes due to our helplessness.
It happens in our presence and we choose not to act.
We take it for granted that such small things are part of life.

When the issues of big scams come out – say 2G Spectrum, CWG, Satyam etc., we passionately discuss.
We strongly believe that the culprits should be punished.

But have we not made a wrong choice when the occasion demanded us to act? At least I have: time and again.
Similarly there would be many others who would make wrong choices and decisions even now.

The difference is never of scale.
The difference is of choice.

And I know I have not exercised my choice well when situation demanded.
I am guilty of making a wrong choice when circumstances challenged me.

109. Wishes

Sometimes I realize (fortunately) that I have strong likes and dislikes. I try not to express those, but they are somehow expressed frequently, though subtly.

For example, I don‘t like to do anything in bulk – I do it exclusively – whether writing a message or calling a person or spending time with someone. I treat every moment and every person as a special gift to me. I wish that everyone else has the same feeling about me. Alas! That is not the case. So, Deepavali time is bulk ‘wish SMS’ time. It scares me. I have written about it in an earlier post Wholesale , so won’t repeat myself.

During this Deepavalee, I just decided to enjoy ‘Wish messages’. I understand that these wishes are honest though most of them are ordinarily articulated and are sent in bulk. I received about ten standard messages – each message sent by a number of people – taking the cumulative messages to a ton. So many people remember me in good moments is a good sign. May be most people do not have time or courage to be original enough- and hence they forward what has been received. (I am doing the same here :-))

‘Wish You Happy Deepavalee’ was the most common message that I received. Some added ‘Good Wishes’ to that message.

However here are some special ones which I liked. May be you too would enjoy these.

One Acronym based message said:

This occasion gives You

D – Dhan (wealth)

I – Ishwarkrupa (God’s blessings)

P – Prasiddhi (Fame)

A – Aarogya (Health)

V – Vaibhav (again Wealth)

A – Aishwarya (again Wealth – though Dhan, Vaibhav and Aishwarya have deeper subtle meanings which are different – but let us not go into it now)

L – Lavanya (Beauty)

I – Ishwarsiddhi (attainment of God)? I am not sure of the translation

Another message was eco-friendly. It said:

“If you stop firing crackers, Show lighting on buildings by burning Oil Lamps; this Deepavalee will be definitely “HAPPY DEEPAVALEE”. This is demand of hour.. time.. era. Don’t waste our valuable resources. “

Third message was a reflective one. It said:

“One day our entire life might flash in front of our eyes. Make sure it is WORTH watching!”

Fourth message was on the same lines:

“May the outer illumination inspire us to search for light WITHIN.”

Fifth message was about happiness. It said:

“Like the fireworks sparkling in the sky, may your each day glow with joy and be bright with smiles.”

Sixth was a combo message: “A Happy, Peaceful, Safe, Joyful, Prosperous and Healthy Deepavalee”. ‘ALL in ONE’ kind of message – typically 21st Century message. We want everything instantly.

And the seventh was interesting: “Vaikunth se VISHNUJEE, Kailas se SHIVAJEE, Ayodhya se SHRIRAMJEE, Mathura se SHRIKRISHNJEE aur PRITHVI se swayam hum apko Deepavalee or Naye Saal kee hardik shubhakamanaye dete hai” (Lord Vishnu from Vaikuntha, Lord Shiva from Kailas, Lord Rama from Ayodhya, Lord Krishna from Mathura and from the Earth I wish you Happy Deepavalee and New Year.” (Now don’t ask here why Ayodhya and Mathura are not part of the Earth! You are not supposed to be logical when the intention is to make you smile!) I like this aspect of treating oneself equal to God. Why not?

I smiled at each of these messages. I thought over some of these messages. I never sent a message to anyone. Not even through email. I just called few friends, chatted with them, met some friends online – chatted with them.

Learning to accept wishes is essential element of growing with relevance. I think I moved a bit in this direction during this Deepavalee............ I am sure someone sitting in some corner must have wished me GROWTH along with happiness! Strong wishes always help us, push us forward: isn’t it?

108. Coward

Scene 1:

I am traveling with three colleagues – two men and one woman. On our way, we stop at a roadside hotel for tea and snacks. The hotel has more chairs in the open ground than inside. It is evening time. The interior of the hotel is not so good, so we prefer to sit outside in the open air. We are just wondering whether to eat anything or a cup of tea would do, bang comes a vehicle. It is black Scorpio, playing loud music. Four young men get out of the vehicle. They are chatting loudly. They pull the chairs and keep on talking – more of laughing in fact - loudly. The driver of their vehicle gets outside, leaving all four doors of the vehicle open. The music is still on – piercing everything around.

I don’t like loud music. I also don’t like insensitive people. But I do not hurry. I always believe in giving people time to settle and to understand the environment around. The music is disturbing everybody there. It is obvious from the looks people are giving to those four men. Our group is disgusted with the loudness of music. There is a hushed discussion on ‘how people do not have manners these days.’

I know there is no point discussing the issue amongst ourselves. The noise making guys do not know that we are disturbed by their music. Without conversing with them, how can we assume that they will understand what we want? Whether we want or not, dialogue is an essential part of the life. So, I get up. Knowing me well, my colleagues are aghast.

“Don’t go and say anything to them, they will not listen to you”, one of my elder colleagues almost orders me. “Let me go and request them whether they can bring down the volume of the music. No harm in requesting, at most they won’t pay any attention to me...” I try to convince my colleagues. By experience I know that if I approach people in non-aggressive manner, people generally accept the request.

“No, they don’t seem to be of the type whom you can request”, another colleague chips in.

“There are so many people around. Why you only have to go and talk to those people?” another colleague is irritated.

“Let me try at least. I don’t intend to pick up any fight with them. But I cannot sit with this loud music here…” why I am apologetic even when I am not wrong – I do not know.

“You will not talk to them. If they say something mischievous to you, I will not be able to control myself and there will be a fight”, my senior colleague reminds me again. They three make me sit on the chair. For the next half an hour we all sit there irritated, angry, frustrated. We do not enjoy our tea and our well deserved break.

Scene 2:

I am traveling from Mumbai to Ahmadabad. Until the train leaves Borivali station, there is never peace around. So, till then I compromise with the situation. After the train leaves Borivali station, everyone settles down with the luggage and silence spreads.

However today there is some noise. Some people have the habit of speaking loudly on their cell phones. May be, one of those is in the coach today. Five minutes pass. Ten minutes pass. Now I start getting irritated. I try to locate the source of noise. I am sitting in the 15^th row and the sound is coming from the first row. I approach the first row and notice that two youngsters are watching a movie on their laptop with full sound on.

“Hello guys, the volume of the movie is really disturbing me. Could you tune it down please?” I ask politely. One man says ‘Sorry’ and immediately the noise vanishes.

When I come back to my seat, at least ten people sitting in the middle rows “Thank” me for my action. I just wonder why none of them could request those laptop guys.

Scene 3:

I am in a train again, with another colleague. A young man is sitting next to me. At one of the stations, vendors enter in the train. People purchase eatables and magazines and soft drinks. One of the passengers sitting in the next rows says something ugly to the vendor. The vendor must have so many such experiences, he just neglects that rough speaking man.

I do not know what exactly happened, but I suddenly find the next row guy abusing the young man sitting next to me. The language used by the man is horrible. He is threatening the young man. The young man is confused. He tries to argue with that abusive man. That adds fuel in the temper of that abusive man.

I look at the abusive man carefully. He is wearing fancy, costly clothes, expensive wristwatch and goggles. He seems to be educated and rich – we all are in an AC compartment. I am not sure what has provoked this man – but the language he is using is unacceptable, unacceptable in public space. I am going to try conversation with this abusive man. My colleague senses that and urges me: “Keep quiet. Don’t say anything.”

I am aware that it is night time and I how can I not know that I am a woman! But does it mean that I don’t take a stand when someone is abusing an innocent person – though I do not know that innocent person?

The abusive man is making loud phone calls. He is inviting his gang at a particular station and threatens the innocent young man again. The innocent young man is frightened now. He asks me whether shifting to the next coach would be better for him. We are talking in a low voice. I advise him to stay where he is – at least we know that he is innocent – the passengers in the next coach would not understand anything. An old man sitting in the back row is interested in our conversation. He apparently knows this abusive man. His advice to the innocent young man is: run away as fast as you can. Get away and catch another train if you can.

To me the back row man says: You please keep quiet. Don’t say anything to that abusive man.

In front of the whole crowd of frightened and confused passengers the innocent young man sneaks away. The abusive man is making another series of phone calls – describing the young man and ordering his friends to “look after the young man”.

For me, my inaction was scarier than people’s response.

Scene 4:

Delhi Metro. From 3^rd October the first coach is reserved for women. Generally there are Metro persons guiding people at the platform. However, few men still find themselves in the women’s coach. Whenever I come across such men, I politely inform them to move to the next coach. Generally they accept and move on. And all the women who are sitting and standing around me say ‘Thanks” to me. But why they did not tell that man to move away?

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Why am I such a coward? Especially when I am with someone? Many times I feel we are at our best when we are left to ourselves. When we are bound by the people around, we are supposed to please them, accept their beliefs and life values. This leads to many compromises, which makes us a different person altogether – forcing us to behave differently than our beliefs. So, better to be away from bondage.

We wait for someone else to take a lead – because our approach to most of the situation is that of confrontation. We assume that a fight will take place and hence we keep ourselves away from intervening. But many times you can resolve the situation by just having proper dialogue; you don’t have to be aggressive to make your point. You have to believe that the person in front of you does not know (rules, expectations, demands of the situation etc.), so make an effort to convey those.

If only I could just stop behaving like a coward, I would be able to learn more, grow more, enjoy more and live more happily.

Cowardice is the biggest barrier one has to cross to live like oneself – the greatest fulfillment one can have in this life.