It is a desire that is born out of pain, happiness, grief and joy. The life on earth is ever expanding, ideas ever reforming and Science ever evolving. Without emotions and a stately sense of principles, it is hard to bind them together for a human life in a life. What is today will be vale tomorrow; what is tomorrow will be extinct soon.
As I always follow and preach, the life is very short and limited; it is worth being alive to the fullest among the mirky and harshest truths. But humanity has still not wilted off around. Some of us still believe in the good works, in the will to achieve, in faith and poise. They do not revel in all the hurly-burly, marking out every single atrocity and tramping past all that pains.
To synonimize life, I choose happiness. I like to play a fool with my heart. I love to love. I yearn to give them, who have lost everything or got nothing. I have embraced life as it comes, as how it has rewarded or punished me, no regrets meted without a cause.
The other day I was returning home from the office and was late as I had to purchase a cheap Sports shoe for the next day's soccer match. It was 9 o'clock at night later which, there was no public vehicle plying to my place. I had waited 20 minutes at the bus stand for my bus during which, I watched a blind middle-aged woman waiting for hers. As the bystanders satirized her infirmity, I decided to take a step forward to humanity. I went upto her, asked for the bus she was waiting for, waited for another 35 minutes, stopped her bus, guided her to board it on. I got on a random bus later myself and hired an auto from somewhere close to my home. Her hands in mine with a disoriented face and a beautiful pomaded hair felt like an angel in disguise. I could almost feel her throbbing heart echoing in revered gratitude. Looking at her as her bus receded from the stand, the surmounting happiness I was in, indeed, is too much to describe by the letter of the law.
There are the needy wanderers galore, who settle in front of the temples and Churches. They run their families with the daily alms that they long all day long. I believe in destiny and that whatever good and bad are done come back tailing us. What if your destiny was not a white collar job in a Tier 1 consulting firm? What if you were not born with gifts of talents, a moneyed family base, priceless friendships, your partner's true love or having brought up a blessed son or daughter who fills all the gaps in your contented life? What if success didn't trespass your career? What if there was very little a pouch left with you to start a life, to feed a hope ahead?
I put myself in their cleft shoes oftentimes, try to find that needle in the haystack to see a hope of education, a hope of a fulfilling mid-day meal and a mere hope to see a child smile. Once such soul exists at the very heart of Bangalore. Every day since I traveled there for work, I saw that blind man sitting near the 4th Block bus depot with its cuddled infant and begging for mercy. To the wonder of my eyes one day, I saw a shabby daily-wage laborer offering some coins to that blind man and joining hands to offer a pranam. I stool still to understand what force lies within a person of limited means to offer money to someone of nearly the same economical status. Cold breeze blew behind my ears in a midsummer afternoon. A bizarre urge took me over. I paced to a local Nandini parlor and offered him a small chilled tetra-pack of milk. As I placed the packet over his wrinkled hands, I couldn't help but held onto his palm for a second or two before I realized it was not me who was holding hands. It was his cold pair of foresaken hands which does not work for a blue-chip MNC, which does not play the piano, which cannot hold his child and teach her cycling. He was shivering with awe and deference as he tried to look up to me and see from his heart. The child nigh, stared at me with those innocent eyes I could hardly glance at, as I felt with a heavy heart I couldn't do anything more.
These moments of truth pass by our life every day around us. It is not an effort to feel for the better, to soothe a pain or to bake a bun for a canoer. It only gives you a moment's satisfaction that voids the next minute when your boss summons you and carps on your self-conceited position in the company. It embodies a structure of happiness, that touches and sinks deep into your soul, inspired and valued. I have been offering a meagre part of my responsibility of lending happiness as my pocket and wisdom permits me. Happiness to me is contagious; it travels through people's minds aided by memories and experiences. Some experiences are sown into viral marketing campaigns, some are left-behind ideas not funded! But the basic trench lies in what and how we want our fellow mates to fare in life. According to a recent research by the World Bank, India had borne a mean Death rate of 11.4% vis-à-vis births out of poverty in 2014. The scourge of poverty alone accounted for 240 million lives in the rural and 72 million in the urban with more than 43% of them not deserving a midday meal even at subsidized rates, leaving them BPL.
I request you to barge in all the odds of your ego, attitude and a set conscience for status and try to join in turning our land into an even better place to breathe.
Please make some room for these people who need us along and by. Spare a moment to think on them, add up as minute a stint as you afford every time you come across someone who you think deserves your helping hand. Take my word for it- it makes you witness of a felicity which no other worldly pleasure can grant in terms of your life. You need not be a Carlos Slim or Warren Buffet to seed in a thought for them, but a living heart and mind. Let us make our fleeting life count for just some others.
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As I always follow and preach, the life is very short and limited; it is worth being alive to the fullest among the mirky and harshest truths. But humanity has still not wilted off around. Some of us still believe in the good works, in the will to achieve, in faith and poise. They do not revel in all the hurly-burly, marking out every single atrocity and tramping past all that pains.
To synonimize life, I choose happiness. I like to play a fool with my heart. I love to love. I yearn to give them, who have lost everything or got nothing. I have embraced life as it comes, as how it has rewarded or punished me, no regrets meted without a cause.
"Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow -
You're not wrong, who deem my days have been a dream;
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream"
With an experience replete with the fiercest of funks and lasting optimism, I am listening to the chiming overture to life. There was a waif whom I met once I boarded off my bus on the way to my hostel. He used to devour the residual pulp of the waste shred coconut shells from the coconut stall at a bus stand. Over a week of certitude of visual disturbance, I decided to open myself to him. The next week for 5 days in a row, I offered him two coconuts full of water and pulp inside, whenever I boarded off the bus. That waif in grubby rugs didn't know which expression would fit his face for me. Every time he let out both his trembling sweaty hands in an impulse, grabbed the coconuts with watery eyes and a cold face. He sat there on his hunches in nothing flat, to slosh it down his throat. I felt those 200 currency value were my best investment for the month, as what I received was a heart full of wisdom and an ocean of happiness, that cannot be dealt with words.
The other day I was returning home from the office and was late as I had to purchase a cheap Sports shoe for the next day's soccer match. It was 9 o'clock at night later which, there was no public vehicle plying to my place. I had waited 20 minutes at the bus stand for my bus during which, I watched a blind middle-aged woman waiting for hers. As the bystanders satirized her infirmity, I decided to take a step forward to humanity. I went upto her, asked for the bus she was waiting for, waited for another 35 minutes, stopped her bus, guided her to board it on. I got on a random bus later myself and hired an auto from somewhere close to my home. Her hands in mine with a disoriented face and a beautiful pomaded hair felt like an angel in disguise. I could almost feel her throbbing heart echoing in revered gratitude. Looking at her as her bus receded from the stand, the surmounting happiness I was in, indeed, is too much to describe by the letter of the law.
There are the needy wanderers galore, who settle in front of the temples and Churches. They run their families with the daily alms that they long all day long. I believe in destiny and that whatever good and bad are done come back tailing us. What if your destiny was not a white collar job in a Tier 1 consulting firm? What if you were not born with gifts of talents, a moneyed family base, priceless friendships, your partner's true love or having brought up a blessed son or daughter who fills all the gaps in your contented life? What if success didn't trespass your career? What if there was very little a pouch left with you to start a life, to feed a hope ahead?
I put myself in their cleft shoes oftentimes, try to find that needle in the haystack to see a hope of education, a hope of a fulfilling mid-day meal and a mere hope to see a child smile. Once such soul exists at the very heart of Bangalore. Every day since I traveled there for work, I saw that blind man sitting near the 4th Block bus depot with its cuddled infant and begging for mercy. To the wonder of my eyes one day, I saw a shabby daily-wage laborer offering some coins to that blind man and joining hands to offer a pranam. I stool still to understand what force lies within a person of limited means to offer money to someone of nearly the same economical status. Cold breeze blew behind my ears in a midsummer afternoon. A bizarre urge took me over. I paced to a local Nandini parlor and offered him a small chilled tetra-pack of milk. As I placed the packet over his wrinkled hands, I couldn't help but held onto his palm for a second or two before I realized it was not me who was holding hands. It was his cold pair of foresaken hands which does not work for a blue-chip MNC, which does not play the piano, which cannot hold his child and teach her cycling. He was shivering with awe and deference as he tried to look up to me and see from his heart. The child nigh, stared at me with those innocent eyes I could hardly glance at, as I felt with a heavy heart I couldn't do anything more.
I request you to barge in all the odds of your ego, attitude and a set conscience for status and try to join in turning our land into an even better place to breathe.
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