The one inside us

Is not finding meaning in 'life' actually a way of finding it? Is life only a straitjacketed, monorail journey which we all take just to go from point A to B(and perhaps C)? Or is it just a web of experiences where achievers and losers criss-cross to shape each other, one indispensable to the other? Whose life is more valuable, the 'one' who guides us all, gives meaning to those As and Bs for generations? Why is it, that only a few can see and are willing to go on 'that' path, which the others cannot(or don't) see? What drives us when we have nothing left?  What breeds a lack of ambition and fuels complacency?  Why are 'systems' in us and around us always susceptible to fail? What breeds suffering? Why is utopia only an imagination? Cannot societies afford more change agents, the outliers, or only a limited ones have that responsibility? What allows us to not 'think'? Why cannot the journey to reach to ourselves pass through others? What is this thing that passes and makes us old? Why does it end, always? Why is life so short?

We start out as young, flexible minds and end up having our own rigid identities, defined by our work, our nature, our upbringings & our reactions. Freedom and the lack of it, both makes us who we are. The glare of life around us is such, that it creates 'us'.

No lines in Bus?

I was traveling to office, in one of the often crowded buses of Delhi. As my stop neared, I stood from my seat and waited behind others who were to get down as well. A man, in his late fifties (observation), with his bag, tried to brisk me sideways. There was hardly any space to give him a way and others were already standing near the exit front gate. 

Following rules invites safety.

I asked him, "What are you trying to do, the stop is some 5 mins away." He said, "Can't you see the crawling traffic? I will ask the driver to halt the bus and get down now." 

I replied, "then what good is this line for? (as not only was he quite unaware of his uncanny behaviour* but also wanted a public bus to be halted for him prior to the bus-stop). He said, "you don't know son, there are no lines in bus." 

The bus driver was unperturbed and he stopped the bus only at the designated bus-stop. I was amused but raising my voice I said, well, now that I have publicly accosted you, next time you'll be careful to jump the queue, because they exist! 

We both got down and walked our opposite ways, silently acknowledging our act of change. 

*This uncanny behaviour is what is slowly eroding our societal values. We must point out to others the relevance of being courteous in public life. What is disheartening is not that the bad people indulge into ill-behaviour(and acts) but that the good ones, the educated often shy away from bringing out these behavioural changes in others, which is often only, a simple act of dialogue.   

Young girl and a map

Kids are pure. Their minds slowly evolve towards the complexities of this large world.

Standing at a stationery shop, I asked for a writing pad. I observed a young girl came from behind and asked for India's map. She wanted 2 of them. 

Sometimes its good to see young people involved in studies, creative work, talking about science, their country. Never would one find a child discussing about such things for the sake of it. They do so with genuine curiosity, with feelings. They represent our future but somehow scripting their own future later in life, they hardly remember that they were meant to be not just their's but societies's future. Most of them, ungrow. 

She handed over a Rs 5 coin, the coin she was carrying in her hand to the owner. 2 maps were to cost Rs 4 so he handed her another map, thinking she will take 3 for Rs 5. She asked for Re 1 and handed him 1 map back. Perhaps, she didnt understand that she was about to get a good deal, another map for just Re 1. 

I smiled at the shopkeeper and said it is us who teach them to mend ways, they are willing to follow rules. He grinned but couldn't say anything and girl, she slowly faded away with her maps. 

An old man and chicken soup

Taking a walk on Shankar Road, famous for its tandoori chicken outlets, serving food inside customer's cars, I decided to try the newest joint, the Sardar M* Shop. Waiting for my serving I was joined in by an old, well dressed gentleman, who asked for chicken soup. For some five minutes, busy eating, I did not notice him in any detail. As I finished, he collected his package. Both of us took out our wallet and paid at the same time. The counter guy went inside the shop to get some change and at that moment I noticed him. He wore a winter cap, plaited trousers, a blazer and matching shoes. He looked frail and quite old. It was past evening so it was hard to discern how old he was (Well, isn't it becoming hard to notice old people in any detail these days? Arent we getting increasingly occupied with ourselves and some selected things around us?). 
I thought of saying hello to him. But what could I ask? What could one ask an old man(who knows all at once)? What if he was a pure punjabi, who did not care to reply in english? (sometimes initiating a conversation in english is a bad idea, as who knows if the intimacy gets lost?) I thought it better to ask him directly what came to my mind and I said, "Uncle, at this age, how can you like Chicken soup?" (By the looks he was to be in seventies, when people eat bare and plain stuff, just to keep them going, and here he was ready with his packet of chicken soup). He said, to my astonishment, "I am 86 and I am doing just fine!"

I have never really talked to a man of that age, specially at a fast food outlet, alone by himself. I said, "Whats your view on these outlets, serving just about anything, anyhow. How was it back then, when you were you young?" He replied, "Ah it doesnt matter! Eat anything, which looks good and tastes good. You see I am single and I have worked in the foreign office, lived abroad and eaten everything that came in my way. I am 86, you see!" For a minute I felt relieved from the bashing anyone receives from within because of eating out. "Why did you stay single? Sometimes, Uncle, I have a similar urge, a deep thought of staying single too!", I remarked. "Ah no! Never stay single!" By this time we started walking, "No one comes to a lone tree, people prefer them in groups," which showed that he had felt loneliness and perhaps suffered from it too. I had to smile and asked him about his routine. "Nothing, I do nothing now, the cook comes and she make my meals, I call my friends, and go for long chats in the park. Thats about it." Walking, we had arrived at his by lane and we had to part, but I was glad I said hello to him!