After finishing the shopping spree for our induction program in Mumbai and gulping coke with Mc’D’s burger, we started strolling towards home. I had completely descended myself deep into the music player of my phone and could hear to nobody/ nothing but Bon Jovi.
While passing across a mansion on our way, I asked Raghu “Is it private property?”
Raghu “There is a woman out there begging on the road.”
“Such a magnificent palace!!
“There is an infant with her.”
“If only I were living in this mansion!!!”
“She is begging for food.”
“Look at the offer, “Exchange old bike with new one on easy loan.”
While I kept ambling, Raghu suddenly rushed into a restaurant.
“What a gourmand!!! Aren’t those burgers enough to satiate this pig’s stomach?”
All I could do was to stare at the unblemished, enticing bike and reverie about it. After five minutes Raghu came out of the restaurant with a plastic bag full of spank-smelling food and started walking back to mansion negating my frown. Rest of the scene I could only imagine. Raghu walked down to that vagabond and offered the food.
(My heart could sense he offered food not to that destitute but in the grand majesty of that almighty and the best part is that this stroke of altruism was as unconditional and chaste as mother’s love for her toddler)
“Please don’t think that I have brought all left and stale for you. Food is fresh-packed.” Raghu, the harbinger of humanity for the moment, said with persuasive and compassionate smile.
“As you can see, baby can’t eat. It drinks only milk.” said the aged and frail tramp forwarding the milk bottle towards Raghu.
I was so exclaimed by her ingratitude. Scene had drifted even from my wildest imagination. I was expecting that the lady would express her sheer gratefulness to Raghu who was no less than the incarnation of God to her, at least for the evening.
Raghu inquired if there was any shop nearby where he could get milk for starving baby.
Lady immediately responded with authority “There is a big, big, very big provision store down the road. You get milk there.”
“Ok.”
Before I could come down to my senses, Raghu had rushed to get milk (mind it milk which is packed in bottles) from any possible corner of the terrestrial enclave. I stood there frozen on the corner of the road looking no less than a clown.
2 Minutes- Raghu is not back.
Apart from cars and bikes, there is nothing much to observe in this dusk. What to do? Let’s observe the beggar. She is around fifty. Pale skin, draped in rags, sitting on a mat which is matt. There are few coins lying on the mat thrown by kind people as alms. Poverty is like dripping her from all angles. Her only vision for future seems to make sure her family doesn’t sleep hungry. Her immediate target is to get milk for infant as the rest of the target is already bestowed by Raghu. Infant is half naked, nothing more than a skeleton, epitome of famine and making me believe that hunger and its quench can transcend from being a need to being eerily only desire to live.
5 Minutes- Raghu is not back yet.
I am dead tired, so I sit on the wall which makes the footpath like an aisle between road and palace. I make sure that I have maintained a considerable distance from beggar. Passer-bys are staring at me with all bizarreness and curiosity as to what possibility could have made it inevitable for the young man in formals to sit next to beggar on the footpath. One lady has tossed a coin at her.
“Where has the chap gone?” lady asked me.
“To get milk (mind it milk which is packed in bottles) for baby.”
“He is making it too late. He has vanished in the wrong side. Provision store is this side. I know a big, big, very big store. Why don’t you get milk?”
I almost fell down from the wall. There is Raghu, hell bent to get milk even from nadir of earth and here is this lady who doesn’t even have the patience to wait for him.
“That is hotel and not store. You got food but not milk there.”
“Don’t teach me. I know how many twenty make a hundred. You are making excuses to avoid spending money on milk.” Lady rebuked me adamantly.
“You must be out of your mind. Here we are arranging to feed you, your baby and all your family and you are arraigning me only.”
“I am already late.” she said indifferently signing thanks to a passer-by who had thrown a coin to her.
“What obstinate beggar” I thought.
Meanwhile, bystanders and passer-bys are making warped faces looking at me and beggar conversing with each other. Baby has no other task at hand but to cry.
10 Minutes- Raghu still hasn’t appeared.
“I guess the guy has left. Listen to me, don’t be lazy. Go, Get the milk.”
I didn’t respond as i knew Raghu would be back any moment.
“O kind man, may god give you all the happiness of this world. Go; Get the milk for the baby.”
“What’s his name?”
“Don’t waste your time. Get the milk. The other gentleman seems to be stuck somewhere.”
I turned back and saw Raghu coming with a bottle. He gave milk to the lady and lady paid a word of thanks without any genuine appreciation. We started walking back to our room.
Raghu was explaining me the difficulty he had in getting the milk (mind it milk which is packed in bottles). But I was not getting anything he was saying. I was still thinking about the beggar. What could have made her behave so impolitely? Why was she angry with me or was she angry with me only, if at all? Why was she being so selfish?
At the age of fifty, she was there on the road begging for the food with the infant which most probably was her grandson. If there is grandson, there must be a son. Where is he? Two possibilities are there.
1. Son is no more.
So, what’s wrong if poor mother of a dead son is annoyed with this society which can’t provide food and shelter to her? What great thing passer-bys are doing by giving her alms as she had to sit there for the same thing tomorrow also! Why should she be grateful to them? What’s wrong if she is selfish and in hurry to get the milk for baby, anyhow? Aren’t we all selfish? Isn’t this whole world selfish?
2. Son is there but not earning enough to feed her and baby.
Isn’t a son who is making his mother beg on road reason enough for the lady to be impolite to this world? I don’t see anything abnormal in that. So, if she is imagining her son in me, righteously she will fell making me teach how many twenty make a hundred. What gratefulness and appreciation can the youth expect from old generation for helping them with things which they should get by right?
Now keenly observe this. Baby drinks only milk and lady is carrying a bottle. That means baby is denied of breast-feeding. Reason????? Mother is no more in this world or unable to feed baby. Grandma is begging, bottle is empty and baby is hungry, I don’t know for how long. Had I been there in place of such a grandmother, shouldn’t I have all the restlessness in this world to feed the infant as soon as possible? Why should I wait until some Raghu turns up? Why shouldn’t I insist some Anshul who is standing next to me when I know he has got money enough to buy a packet of milk and the only reason he is standing here to see that Raghu gets milk for baby.
I don’t want to argue about the pros and cons of giving alms to beggars. I am not here to decide the criteria to separate deserving beggars from undeserving beggars. All I want to say is let’s acknowledge that there is a world out there which needs our unconditional help. Unconditional help. Let’s be thankful to God for giving us gifts like healthy body, parents, good childhood and other things which we take for granted. But ask those who are denied of it. Walking is so obvious for us. Ask a lame is it obvious for him? His only dream in life might be to walk a few steps on his own feet without any help.
So, in future whenever and wherever we meet somebody who needs help, let’s not just shy away with an excuses like lack of time, liquidity crunch or simply stating that candidate for help is not deserving. Let’s be unconditional. Let’s do best what we can do on our echelon, magnitude really doesn’t matter. If nothing, we can at least pay attention to them which costs us nothing. Let’s make this life better not only for us but also for others.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Monday, September 29, 2008
India- Time to lose Virginity
India, for decades, has been identified as a country with huge fiscal deficit which signifies that we (Govt.) tend to spend more than we can supply. We elate when we see that our economy is following the ill conceived notion that it’s a good omen for a developing country to have deficit than surplus. We Indians, because of huge unproductive population, spend more than we earn. If we continue to be such people, I am afraid whether we can become a developed country ever.
Reason is simple. Expenditure being greater than income means our demand being more than supply, causing inflation. This serpent of inflation stings the people at the bottom of pyramid the most and thus hissing and jibing at our dream of inclusive and non-inflationary growth. Mind it “inclusive and non- inflationary( Raghuram Rajan).'’ I give more weight to the inclusive one.
We take great pride in the fact that Indian economy is driven by its domestic demand. I agree. But it’s partially also because that we are still not good enough to channelized our product in international market. Take the example of China. Though it sitting on the ‘heap of explosion’ of US $ 1.8 Trillions of Forex reserves (as on 29th Sep, 08) with the match box of” Full Capital account convertibility”, I can still bet on the growth of China because of its high productivity. We boast of beating China on the basis of IT Industry. Mind it Chinese IT Industry (Hardware & Software) is more than three times that of India.
I am not a pessimistic and I also truly believe that our growth model is much holistic and sustainable than that of China and wish a day will come when India will again drive the engine of world trade. But that can happen if Indian brainy economists with antenna of wisdom on their heads don’t let themselves paralyzed by the malady of politics.
REER (Real Effective Exchange Rate) of India has continuously been suppressed to appreciate. What are the various methods which govt. has sought (or it can sought) over the past decade to carry with this honeymoon?
Killing growth: Slowing down the productivity growth and thus avoiding the rise in the prices of services (Non- tradable goods) and avoiding inflation. It leads to sacrificing growth for inflation. Example- raising interest rates for corporate lending
Restraining Capital Flows: Stringent norms and rules for capital mobility and thus keeping the nominal exchange rate low. Sacrificing growth but does make sense.
Sterilization- Buying dollar and selling rupee to keep latter’s demand low. It can work up to a limit. But excess of it will once again lead to excess domestic liquidity causing inflation which our central government can never allow to happen. Mind it government and not the political parties.
Reducing the interest rates: Making Indian market less attractive for foreign investors but boosting the inflation which again is seen as a problem.
First two don’t make any sense to a rational person and second two to government. Question baffling my mind is ‘is the appreciating REER really a problem or hindrance in the path of India to become a developed country.’ Let’s assume it is. Then what shall we do? We shouldn’t let it appreciate. How? Either by letting our currency depreciate or by reducing inflation. Both of them are contrasting to each other and striking a balance means accepting that India is contented with its pervasive poverty. Moreover, let’s agree that in the coming 20-30 years, appreciation of Rupee against the currencies of developed country is inevitable. Nothing can be farther away from realty than the illusive hope that we can have a lower inflation than that of developed economies like USA, even in long term. Hence, REER has to appreciate and better we stop carping about it. However, we can always manage the manner and timing of REER appreciation, to certain extent. Then what is the way to escape? As per RBI, it is ensuring a balance between inflation and growth where inflation side should win. Can you sense a political stance?
I think central bank of a country has two tasks to do. Let take the secondary one- Managing the inter-twisted Trio of 'monetary policy, exchange rate and capital mobility'. Now taking this trio as a tool, deciding is it the growth or inflation which should dominate. There should be no space for striking balance. In fact, whenever an RBI governor talks about this balance, he seems to be like a B-School student who knows everything else except what he specializes in. RBI always gives preference to inflation over growth with the logic that ‘Aam Admi’ should not suffer. My question is ‘To what extent it is right to keep the prices low while snatching the job opportunities of the up- coming ‘Aam Admi,( I mean youth)? Or is it right in the first place itself? I think the answer should be ‘No'.
We think that our competitive advantage is low cost labor that can contentedly rather merrily continue to clean the arses of MNCs (Back Office job). Is this the way we expect ourselves to become developed country? My answer is ‘No'. Our competitive advantage is young labor and to become a developed country we need to make this labor a skilled one and not a low cost one. If we keep worrying too much about inflation only, where will be the job opportunities for 550 million people below the age of 25 (WEF- India Risk)? Jobs for 550 million is not a f***ing joke!!! YOU and ME lie somewhere there only.
Question to find a concrete and binary answer is- Do we want ourselves to be identified as a developing country or become a developed one? The only way, India can continue its unprecedented growth story is to create continuous job opportunity for youth and if it comes at the cost of inflation, let's agree, it won't be a bad deal. The moment Indian population puts up the habit of living with the inflation rate of 7-9% or rather government makes them understand and live with it, India will make a paradigm shift in its journey from a developing country to a developed one.
All the best. God is great and so are we!!!
Reason is simple. Expenditure being greater than income means our demand being more than supply, causing inflation. This serpent of inflation stings the people at the bottom of pyramid the most and thus hissing and jibing at our dream of inclusive and non-inflationary growth. Mind it “inclusive and non- inflationary( Raghuram Rajan).'’ I give more weight to the inclusive one.
We take great pride in the fact that Indian economy is driven by its domestic demand. I agree. But it’s partially also because that we are still not good enough to channelized our product in international market. Take the example of China. Though it sitting on the ‘heap of explosion’ of US $ 1.8 Trillions of Forex reserves (as on 29th Sep, 08) with the match box of” Full Capital account convertibility”, I can still bet on the growth of China because of its high productivity. We boast of beating China on the basis of IT Industry. Mind it Chinese IT Industry (Hardware & Software) is more than three times that of India.
I am not a pessimistic and I also truly believe that our growth model is much holistic and sustainable than that of China and wish a day will come when India will again drive the engine of world trade. But that can happen if Indian brainy economists with antenna of wisdom on their heads don’t let themselves paralyzed by the malady of politics.
REER (Real Effective Exchange Rate) of India has continuously been suppressed to appreciate. What are the various methods which govt. has sought (or it can sought) over the past decade to carry with this honeymoon?
Killing growth: Slowing down the productivity growth and thus avoiding the rise in the prices of services (Non- tradable goods) and avoiding inflation. It leads to sacrificing growth for inflation. Example- raising interest rates for corporate lending
Restraining Capital Flows: Stringent norms and rules for capital mobility and thus keeping the nominal exchange rate low. Sacrificing growth but does make sense.
Sterilization- Buying dollar and selling rupee to keep latter’s demand low. It can work up to a limit. But excess of it will once again lead to excess domestic liquidity causing inflation which our central government can never allow to happen. Mind it government and not the political parties.
Reducing the interest rates: Making Indian market less attractive for foreign investors but boosting the inflation which again is seen as a problem.
First two don’t make any sense to a rational person and second two to government. Question baffling my mind is ‘is the appreciating REER really a problem or hindrance in the path of India to become a developed country.’ Let’s assume it is. Then what shall we do? We shouldn’t let it appreciate. How? Either by letting our currency depreciate or by reducing inflation. Both of them are contrasting to each other and striking a balance means accepting that India is contented with its pervasive poverty. Moreover, let’s agree that in the coming 20-30 years, appreciation of Rupee against the currencies of developed country is inevitable. Nothing can be farther away from realty than the illusive hope that we can have a lower inflation than that of developed economies like USA, even in long term. Hence, REER has to appreciate and better we stop carping about it. However, we can always manage the manner and timing of REER appreciation, to certain extent. Then what is the way to escape? As per RBI, it is ensuring a balance between inflation and growth where inflation side should win. Can you sense a political stance?
I think central bank of a country has two tasks to do. Let take the secondary one- Managing the inter-twisted Trio of 'monetary policy, exchange rate and capital mobility'. Now taking this trio as a tool, deciding is it the growth or inflation which should dominate. There should be no space for striking balance. In fact, whenever an RBI governor talks about this balance, he seems to be like a B-School student who knows everything else except what he specializes in. RBI always gives preference to inflation over growth with the logic that ‘Aam Admi’ should not suffer. My question is ‘To what extent it is right to keep the prices low while snatching the job opportunities of the up- coming ‘Aam Admi,( I mean youth)? Or is it right in the first place itself? I think the answer should be ‘No'.
We think that our competitive advantage is low cost labor that can contentedly rather merrily continue to clean the arses of MNCs (Back Office job). Is this the way we expect ourselves to become developed country? My answer is ‘No'. Our competitive advantage is young labor and to become a developed country we need to make this labor a skilled one and not a low cost one. If we keep worrying too much about inflation only, where will be the job opportunities for 550 million people below the age of 25 (WEF- India Risk)? Jobs for 550 million is not a f***ing joke!!! YOU and ME lie somewhere there only.
Question to find a concrete and binary answer is- Do we want ourselves to be identified as a developing country or become a developed one? The only way, India can continue its unprecedented growth story is to create continuous job opportunity for youth and if it comes at the cost of inflation, let's agree, it won't be a bad deal. The moment Indian population puts up the habit of living with the inflation rate of 7-9% or rather government makes them understand and live with it, India will make a paradigm shift in its journey from a developing country to a developed one.
All the best. God is great and so are we!!!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Dil-Dosti @ Alliance
People like me face a great difficulty finding girlfriends, to be precise, friends who are girls. My heart instantly throws raison d'être for this derisive rather despicable situation. I am probably little too introverted to go, prattle about boastful nonsense, brazenly ask for cell phone number and delightfully lay down the assumptions that a girl after first tête-à-tête becomes friend. Suddenly my mind, which I am sick of, also shoots throbbing arrows at me revealing that perhaps girls find me little too unimpressive to put me in their 'cradlized fry-end-sip-grave'. My soul takes it as the right opportunity to put forward its truthful but somewhat bitter comment. Not many girls can boast of the threshold qualities that it has set for allowing anybody to become friend. Both, my heart and mind have a valid point therefore my conscience gives the verdict in favor of both but against my soul.
Apart from the meek objective of architecting my career, I had put my step down at Alliance to gulp the beauty nectar from the exquisite ocean made of 105 gorgeous rivers which flowed in Alliance in the form of 2007-2009 procession of my female batch mates. Hailing from an “Only for Boys” college till graduation, I was very excited at the enormous opportunities which by the grace of God I had suddenly become exposed to. The vibrating but innocuous thoughts of having girls in class to look at once in a while, were indulging my heart with great aplomb.
However, I was quick to realize that around half of them had their trinkets waiting somewhere else. The rest half had already been declared as the outright targets by gawks. I had no desire to confront those seemingly ogres.
When I arrived at the Alliance, I was little uncouth if measured as per the kitschy sophistication of “Occidentalized Jennies.” To my sheer misfortune, I acclimatized myself according to the environment shoved upon me by these cosmetic fairies. (Though, I must admit my wimp desire to impress on or two of them). I am afraid when I go back to my village, I will be a gibed at for my hollow etiquettes ill-conferred by Bangalore which are treated at par with arrogance. I may also have to face jeering for seemingly superficial mixture of English with Haryanvi which is presumed to ooze from a dejected and ostracized tongue.
One of my good friends used to say “Give time & money and 8 out of 10 girls will come with you.” I add one more brick to this times immemorial wisdom “Give quality time & money and 10 out of 10 girls will come with you.” If some girl is looking for any other variable apart from these, then you can absolutely feel free to doubt her femininity. Concept of quality time, at the micro level, is applicable and can change according to the whims and fancies of the respective forces involved.
Quality time and money……..soon after I joined Alliance, I was running damn short both of them. Result was but obvious. I found the whole pond of elixir wiping away whereas I could do nothing but to play the inept role of a mute spectator.
Small world back in my village had taught me about two categories of girls- “Good Girls and Bad Girls.” Then I came at Alliance which taught me about so many categories of girls that with fair amount of poise, I can state that girls are category less. Frequency of the colored variation in their behavior can make a chameleon realize its mundane mediocrity.
I have learned another important lesson of haughty optimism. If you propose a girl and she says “No”, take it as “Not now”. Be ready with interminable stock of “Quality time and Money” and I bet, one day she will be “Yours”.
Girls @ Alliance are true managers if somebody pays heed to what “Harold Koontz” said “Management is the art of getting things done by others.” Did somebody say “Beauty of a man lies in the wisdom he possesses!!” Let’s look at it this way “Wisdom of a women lies in the beauty she possesses.” I think second one is more contemporary.
As five fingers of a hand are never equal, similarly it’s not possible to generalize that all girls @ Alliance are devoted with these attributes. I have just made a humble attempt to pierce through the immeasurable depth of behavior and infinite facets of personality that some multi-talented princesses of Alliance display arbitrarily. If some people have tried to deliberately relate it and get agitated, I hereby absolve myself without any reservation from listening to their conjured carping.
Apart from the meek objective of architecting my career, I had put my step down at Alliance to gulp the beauty nectar from the exquisite ocean made of 105 gorgeous rivers which flowed in Alliance in the form of 2007-2009 procession of my female batch mates. Hailing from an “Only for Boys” college till graduation, I was very excited at the enormous opportunities which by the grace of God I had suddenly become exposed to. The vibrating but innocuous thoughts of having girls in class to look at once in a while, were indulging my heart with great aplomb.
However, I was quick to realize that around half of them had their trinkets waiting somewhere else. The rest half had already been declared as the outright targets by gawks. I had no desire to confront those seemingly ogres.
When I arrived at the Alliance, I was little uncouth if measured as per the kitschy sophistication of “Occidentalized Jennies.” To my sheer misfortune, I acclimatized myself according to the environment shoved upon me by these cosmetic fairies. (Though, I must admit my wimp desire to impress on or two of them). I am afraid when I go back to my village, I will be a gibed at for my hollow etiquettes ill-conferred by Bangalore which are treated at par with arrogance. I may also have to face jeering for seemingly superficial mixture of English with Haryanvi which is presumed to ooze from a dejected and ostracized tongue.
One of my good friends used to say “Give time & money and 8 out of 10 girls will come with you.” I add one more brick to this times immemorial wisdom “Give quality time & money and 10 out of 10 girls will come with you.” If some girl is looking for any other variable apart from these, then you can absolutely feel free to doubt her femininity. Concept of quality time, at the micro level, is applicable and can change according to the whims and fancies of the respective forces involved.
Quality time and money……..soon after I joined Alliance, I was running damn short both of them. Result was but obvious. I found the whole pond of elixir wiping away whereas I could do nothing but to play the inept role of a mute spectator.
Small world back in my village had taught me about two categories of girls- “Good Girls and Bad Girls.” Then I came at Alliance which taught me about so many categories of girls that with fair amount of poise, I can state that girls are category less. Frequency of the colored variation in their behavior can make a chameleon realize its mundane mediocrity.
I have learned another important lesson of haughty optimism. If you propose a girl and she says “No”, take it as “Not now”. Be ready with interminable stock of “Quality time and Money” and I bet, one day she will be “Yours”.
Girls @ Alliance are true managers if somebody pays heed to what “Harold Koontz” said “Management is the art of getting things done by others.” Did somebody say “Beauty of a man lies in the wisdom he possesses!!” Let’s look at it this way “Wisdom of a women lies in the beauty she possesses.” I think second one is more contemporary.
As five fingers of a hand are never equal, similarly it’s not possible to generalize that all girls @ Alliance are devoted with these attributes. I have just made a humble attempt to pierce through the immeasurable depth of behavior and infinite facets of personality that some multi-talented princesses of Alliance display arbitrarily. If some people have tried to deliberately relate it and get agitated, I hereby absolve myself without any reservation from listening to their conjured carping.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Third Floor
Jungle Jungle baat chali hai pata chala hai...... 3rd floor ka pol khula hai.....pol khula hai.....
When did you last visit a zoo? Isn’t it very nice to see animals caged and laugh at them? Nice time pass. But wait a minute. Let me enjoy the contortion on your face when I tell that you got to live in a jungle with unleashed, hungry and carnivorous animals for two continuous years. You have been thrown out of your home in this jungle because there is no other place left in this elite society for a disgusting animal like you.
Frightened……????? Think about a 20 year old guy who chose to live in this jungle and that too by paying money to learn the harsh realities of life. What a fool!!! You will not be very surprised to know and I am not very ashamed to reveal that this fool in nobody else but I. Though I don’t want to declare myself as the best guide to take you through this Jungle yet considering the severe shortage of people for this dangerous job and my experience of one year successful stint of survival, I don’t mind you actually believing it. So, get ready for one of the most amazing and adventurous tours of your life (so far).
1.
Let’s first have a look in proximity. What do we find? Ohhhhh……we have a white owl. My roomy…….Rahul. I believe that every living creature in this world has been bestowed by God with a special capability in a particular area where no else can beat it. If this is true for Rahul as well (I don’t doubt about my belief but about Rahul being a living creature) then the area in which he has excelled is “sleeping.” The words of bible may be divine but Rahul’s keen ears are always attentive towards three magical words “Time to sleep”. He is so committed towards it that it doesn’t really matter whether its test or a party, day or night, dawn or dusk; he never takes hours off from sleeping.
Did somebody say that if you want something by true heart then whole world conspires to help you achieve it? Very true! Now how does it become Rahul’s fault if just a distant look at the books makes him feel sleepy? Not to tell Rahul enjoys his sleep to the extent possible when the pages of an open book converted into helpless pillow are kissing his cheeks (penetrating the stubble, of course).
Rahul, I must admit that I have nothing but humble words to express my gratitude for 10th March, 2008 when you gave me your black blazer and trouser to wear on my first interview at Ernst and Young. That was the best attire that I ever wore in my life (so far).
2.
With choice, I haven’t discussed Baby Boka and his roomy. Not because there is nothing to discuss about them but they are yet new and sometimes they display behavior which resembles that of human beings. Anybody, who behaves, genuinely or deliberately, like human being cannot be a part of 3rd floor.
WE, ANIMALS ON THE THIRD FLOOR, have profound animosity for human beings. Anyways, I should not shy in saying that I am thankful to Baby Boka for his 4GB pen drive which since his admission at Alliance, has, for most of the time, been in my room as the vehicle for the mobility of movies.
I have seen best of the movies of my life because of your pen drive (so far).
3.
By now, you must be wondering why I chose to take you through the esoteric tour of 3rd floor. Why not 1st or 2nd floor? Well, there are three specific reasons for it.
1. Once in my childhood, we had got an essay to write on zoo. I failed (could not pass) because at that time the only animal I knew was our English Teacher. Since then, it has been the burning desire of my heart to write on zoo. Cannot be a better place than third floor because there I have intent, content, serpents and their parents at my disposal.
2. I dictate my pen to write only truth but my pen, of course, will not write anything that endangers my only life.
3. There are people who bring happiness wherever they go and there are people who bring happiness whenever they go. Most of the people there belong to the second category. Some of them are so vicious that even a word about them might give my innocent readers’ thousand reasons to run away.
Sorry for the break. Let’s continue the journey.
4.
There are fools and they are everywhere.
Fools have been the center of my attraction since childhood. So, I have, unconsciously, gained a little bit of knowledge about the categories of fools. A special category of fools who make all attempts to get rid of their folly but eventually fail because their dispositions have been destined to be representatives of foolishness. To be precise, they are the opinion leaders of the emperors of silliness and every moment ready to set new and challenging standards of foolishness.
Considering the augmenting irritation of my intelligent readers, I reveal this secret of ages that such an encomium is in the dignity of our none other than Samar. He is too busy studying during the day that, to the great pleasure of his roomy, he finds the time to recite and then laugh at the fuckfunny Guju jokes only at 3:45 A.M.
Samar, being a rational creature, doesn’t quiet believe in the culture of wearing under wears. However, to everybody’s surprise, the only holy aim of his life is to wash under wears!!! None of the pedantic scholar has been able to construe the confound chemistry of “Samar and Underwear” and this enigma is still standing in front of third floor as “The Great Wall of China” in front of the rest of the world.
However, I cannot forget to say thanks for those peanuts that you gave at 2:00 A.M. when I had nothing else to eat.
Those were the best peanuts of my life in Bangalore (so far).
5.
All of us at the third floor have become the level one story cookers. To become a marketer, this quality is but inevitable. So let me have the great pleasure of introducing the “Biggest, fastest and you know, sleekest Marketer and Black Belt in Story cooker to you, as per my humble marketing exposure. Did somebody say what’s in a name? Wrong!! “Rajat Chaddha, albeit, Rajat Chad Ja (RISE UP…….RAJAT) albeit Silver Under Wear seems to be carrying quite a weight. “Silver Under Wear (I hope Samar has nothing to do with it) has understood the most important lesson of life that it’s easy to befool a wise than sprout wisdom in fools.
I want to drop a line saying thanks for the day when you allowed me to use your bank account to get money as my ATM was back at home. Rs. 1500 was the amount that I got when I needed it most in my life (so far).
6.
So small are his needs that his whole life can be befitted in a SIP (Sutta, iPOD and Philosophy). I really don’t need to give a second thought when I say he is the best at Alliance in scribbling about non-sense philosophy (Truth needs no evidence…..just click on http://www.sumanmaverick.blogspot.com/ and find it yourself). If I force my mind to count friends at Alliance, it squirrels (with unconditional support of my heart as well) this fu****’* name first of all. If I had to make Suman morph in an Animal, it would be a lion.
No time to say thanks to you for once I start I might end up spending most number of hours on typing only, in my life (so far).
7.
If people have doubts that you are a fool, then remain silent and let them doubt rather than speaking and removing all their doubts.
This is the man who stands as a foundation pillar for our birthday bums tradition. As the waves of sea can’t really soften the solid rock, similarly the forceful kicks of all hostlers have failed bitterly to convert his butter soft buttocks into little hard ones.
Neta has been a born scapegoat from the inception of our PGPM course. Be it birthday bums or classroom gimmicks, he is the one who is picked up unanimously.
Did somebody say if can’t escape, enjoy the rape? Every drop of bear poured into his throat secretively reveals that Our “American Desi Neta” seems to have grasped this lesson very well.
I remember so many times you have helped me with the credits of Rs. 100, sometime Rs. 500 too. Now if I say that they were the best Rs 100 of my life, my readers will think that I am making a fool of them.
Though not best, yet they were helpful many a time. Thanks for that.
8.
We are Indians and any Indian family is incomplete until they have a dog for security of home and time pass of kids. So, one day, to the great pleasure of all of us, Boka brought Amit on third floor.
"If you can’t bite, don’t bark." No!! For Amit, It should be “if you can’t bite, at least bark.” This special breed is fast gaining popularity as they are quite good with computers.
Dogs are generally helpful. Amit too is very helpful. I remember when our “Technocross Head” had sat with me throughout the night to prepare slides for the Quiz Contest. I forgot to express my gratitude next morning but can’t miss this opportunity now. Thank you so much dear for your unconditional and undemanding support for that night.
That was the best quiz contest I ever hosted in my life (so far).
9.
Fatso……..he is. I must say he is the honey bee of Alliance. Nandu F***** has always been a person to be envy of. All time so many girls around. “Why to blame girls?” I always try to console my heart thinking that girls have a natural inclination towards pregnant men. It’s been one year and Nandu is looking in no mood to conceive whatever he has got in his belly.
I really don’t think that I need to thank you for all those assignments you gave me to copy as in my opinion I have compensated you by equal or more number of assignments to copy for. But I must say I have seen the heights of amicability during the injury of your roomy “Misbah”. Injured he was but I have seen you hauling yourself to the extent impossible just not to let your roomy suffer. Hats off to you, dear.
10.
One really doesn’t need to crack head. Just one raw look at his face and one can make out that he is the only rabbit of 3rd floor. You interact with him and understand that his soul also supports your findings. The only thing I don’t like about him is that he forgets things a lot. It’s great to happen if I owe him. But somehow every single time, naturally or deliberately, it turns out that he owes me money. Even now when I am writing he owes me Rs. 50. Vibhor, my friend, if you remember those Rs. 50………Opppps. I am sure you don’t remember. But please don’t assume that I endeavored to write all these pages with the willful intention of reminding you about Rs. 50. I have other much better and easier ways to do that.
But, to your misfortune, if this write up, somehow, has become successful to spark a sense of liability in your oblivious mind, then I will be more than happy to see your clumsy face with a fake smile and moron hands with a note of Rs 50 when I open my door tomorrow morning.
Jokes apart, you are a fantastic soul and one of the best things I enjoy on 3rd floor is your melodious voice. Thanks for the unsolicited singing which reminds me of the herculean stint which that almighty has taken to impart our selfish, meaningless and a “hamsters on a treadmill” like life with the abundance of natural virtues.
I wish I will hear best song of my life, dedicated to Alliance, from your divine throat. I also wish that I will write that song for you to sing.
11.
How many of you have seen “Road Trip”? Remember that tiny and disgustingly stretched guy who had wrestled with a fat Negro lady and was rewarded by the lady with her underpants. The treasure of third floor has been embellished further by the twine of “Road Trip Fighter”.
Whenever I get stressed with the useless assignments and DTAs of my course, I feel like giving two three blows to Harry Potter, albeit Manik. Not because he is the one whom I have any animosity against but because he is the only gentle and naive animal whom even I can dare to pounce upon.
Apart from the delicious chicken that you brought from home after SIP, I am thankful to you for sitting with me to analyze the horrendous budget of 2008 and then limit it to the 250 best possible words as per our frugal knowledge of finance.
In my life (so far)that was the best analysis of Indian Budget.
12.
Seemingly petrified and therefore gentle, this elderly creature had not been able to catch much of my attention. But both of us came a little closer when we were rewarded with damnation in the last week of March, 2008. For a duck who has survived in zoo for 5 years before becoming a part of jungle, it will be very rude of me to say anything demeaning the majesty of our SGC president. Who the hell cares……!!!RUDE I AM. The only thing I enjoy about Chacha is the unusual and fanatical way of saying “BENCHO” for a Hindi abusive word (Those who understood…..I don’t need to explain and those who didn’t they don’t need to).
I take great pleasure in expressing warm thanks on behalf of the whole third floor for whatever our honorable SGC president has done for us (though I am doubtful whether he has actually done anything???). I also take this opportunity to say thanks to Chacha for consoling, guiding and keeping me resilient during the period when I was not on the usual heights my morale to bag a good SIP.
in my life (So far), You have been the best SGC president I have come across.
13.
Deer is an animal which is as harmless as the Munshi (Accountant) of the venerable Panchayat. This position of Munshi is actually a form of disguised unemployment and therefore seen as an abject occupation. Sahil, albeit, Munshi is a very sanctimonious kind of animal. Every single morning he offers his prayers and for that he has to come down to our room for a match box. (Hey man, it’s not very costly. Why don’t you buy one?)
I am a big fan of the perseverance of Sahil. I remember he had got least score in the class in B.S.(Business Statistics i.e. Bull Shit) in first DTA with a total of 12. Next time he worked extremly hard , raised the bar for himself and managed not to get the least score. He got 12.5. But the glow on his face was essentially being sourced by his insurmountable delightment from the fact that he had made an improvement of half a mark which in no way was inferior to half a mile towards the hidden treasure of the hero of “Alchemist.”
I am hereby being forced, partially by heart and partially by dirt, to say thanks for maintaining the unflappable supply chain of vicious material which some time is the only support during chosen or random seclusions.
I have seen the best dirt in my life*(so far) because of you.
14.
By this time you must have figured it out that who are going to be the next on the journey. They are consciously cruel. They are corrupt. They are wild; rather I’ll say they are vile. Even then they are the gods of third floor. Collectively they are known as Panchayat.
Hey panchayat ! Hey panchayat!! Hey panchayat!!!
Let me take the honor of introducing you to the most vicious and spiteful gang of our Panches. Welcome on the blog- Mr. Aadi, Mr. Misbah, Mr. Shashank albeit Boka, Mr. Navjot (NJ), Mr. Rakesh and Mr. Tani. These are the majestic mogul of 3rd floor.
Keeping aside my willies and after watching “Rang de Basanti”, I have dared to dictate my very wimp pen to write about Panchayat and their atrocities.
I would like to symbolize them with a herd of leopards that will kill its prey on its whims and fancies. Panch of 3rd floor have a very unique judiciary system. In this system your punishment is identified as Justice. The slogan for panchayat is “Take it easy, but take it.”
It is really beyond my feeble sense of reasoning that what is it that I should be thankful to them for. For this unbearable and non-venial crime, I heartily apologize.
However, when I look back to find what was it that made me to write a blog on 3rd floor, I find that the distinctiveness and the respect that 3rd floor has been able to command in Udupa-2 was one of the factors behind my upright motivation. This respect, this glory, this status would not have been achieved without the perennial and untiring endeavors of tortures of our benign Panchayat. They are corrupt, mean and big time ch***** but at least they accept and acknowledge it happily. I take great pride in being a part of the floor which is full of such cruel, wicked and WILD animals.
Without any doubt, this is the best panchayat of my life (so far). Hey Panchayat!!!!!
15.
So, how was the journey so far?
It is yet incomplete. Last and least as well, here I am. Which animal shall I related myself with? I leave this for you to decide.
I want to thank myself as well for giving so much time to write this huge blog which is dedicated to all the jungle of third floor.
I think this is the best blog I have written in my life (so far).
We, the third floor animals, are grateful to you for spending your precious time with us.
You are the best tourist to our jungle (so far).
When did you last visit a zoo? Isn’t it very nice to see animals caged and laugh at them? Nice time pass. But wait a minute. Let me enjoy the contortion on your face when I tell that you got to live in a jungle with unleashed, hungry and carnivorous animals for two continuous years. You have been thrown out of your home in this jungle because there is no other place left in this elite society for a disgusting animal like you.
Frightened……????? Think about a 20 year old guy who chose to live in this jungle and that too by paying money to learn the harsh realities of life. What a fool!!! You will not be very surprised to know and I am not very ashamed to reveal that this fool in nobody else but I. Though I don’t want to declare myself as the best guide to take you through this Jungle yet considering the severe shortage of people for this dangerous job and my experience of one year successful stint of survival, I don’t mind you actually believing it. So, get ready for one of the most amazing and adventurous tours of your life (so far).
1.
Let’s first have a look in proximity. What do we find? Ohhhhh……we have a white owl. My roomy…….Rahul. I believe that every living creature in this world has been bestowed by God with a special capability in a particular area where no else can beat it. If this is true for Rahul as well (I don’t doubt about my belief but about Rahul being a living creature) then the area in which he has excelled is “sleeping.” The words of bible may be divine but Rahul’s keen ears are always attentive towards three magical words “Time to sleep”. He is so committed towards it that it doesn’t really matter whether its test or a party, day or night, dawn or dusk; he never takes hours off from sleeping.
Did somebody say that if you want something by true heart then whole world conspires to help you achieve it? Very true! Now how does it become Rahul’s fault if just a distant look at the books makes him feel sleepy? Not to tell Rahul enjoys his sleep to the extent possible when the pages of an open book converted into helpless pillow are kissing his cheeks (penetrating the stubble, of course).
Rahul, I must admit that I have nothing but humble words to express my gratitude for 10th March, 2008 when you gave me your black blazer and trouser to wear on my first interview at Ernst and Young. That was the best attire that I ever wore in my life (so far).
2.
With choice, I haven’t discussed Baby Boka and his roomy. Not because there is nothing to discuss about them but they are yet new and sometimes they display behavior which resembles that of human beings. Anybody, who behaves, genuinely or deliberately, like human being cannot be a part of 3rd floor.
WE, ANIMALS ON THE THIRD FLOOR, have profound animosity for human beings. Anyways, I should not shy in saying that I am thankful to Baby Boka for his 4GB pen drive which since his admission at Alliance, has, for most of the time, been in my room as the vehicle for the mobility of movies.
I have seen best of the movies of my life because of your pen drive (so far).
3.
By now, you must be wondering why I chose to take you through the esoteric tour of 3rd floor. Why not 1st or 2nd floor? Well, there are three specific reasons for it.
1. Once in my childhood, we had got an essay to write on zoo. I failed (could not pass) because at that time the only animal I knew was our English Teacher. Since then, it has been the burning desire of my heart to write on zoo. Cannot be a better place than third floor because there I have intent, content, serpents and their parents at my disposal.
2. I dictate my pen to write only truth but my pen, of course, will not write anything that endangers my only life.
3. There are people who bring happiness wherever they go and there are people who bring happiness whenever they go. Most of the people there belong to the second category. Some of them are so vicious that even a word about them might give my innocent readers’ thousand reasons to run away.
Sorry for the break. Let’s continue the journey.
4.
There are fools and they are everywhere.
Fools have been the center of my attraction since childhood. So, I have, unconsciously, gained a little bit of knowledge about the categories of fools. A special category of fools who make all attempts to get rid of their folly but eventually fail because their dispositions have been destined to be representatives of foolishness. To be precise, they are the opinion leaders of the emperors of silliness and every moment ready to set new and challenging standards of foolishness.
Considering the augmenting irritation of my intelligent readers, I reveal this secret of ages that such an encomium is in the dignity of our none other than Samar. He is too busy studying during the day that, to the great pleasure of his roomy, he finds the time to recite and then laugh at the fuckfunny Guju jokes only at 3:45 A.M.
Samar, being a rational creature, doesn’t quiet believe in the culture of wearing under wears. However, to everybody’s surprise, the only holy aim of his life is to wash under wears!!! None of the pedantic scholar has been able to construe the confound chemistry of “Samar and Underwear” and this enigma is still standing in front of third floor as “The Great Wall of China” in front of the rest of the world.
However, I cannot forget to say thanks for those peanuts that you gave at 2:00 A.M. when I had nothing else to eat.
Those were the best peanuts of my life in Bangalore (so far).
5.
All of us at the third floor have become the level one story cookers. To become a marketer, this quality is but inevitable. So let me have the great pleasure of introducing the “Biggest, fastest and you know, sleekest Marketer and Black Belt in Story cooker to you, as per my humble marketing exposure. Did somebody say what’s in a name? Wrong!! “Rajat Chaddha, albeit, Rajat Chad Ja (RISE UP…….RAJAT) albeit Silver Under Wear seems to be carrying quite a weight. “Silver Under Wear (I hope Samar has nothing to do with it) has understood the most important lesson of life that it’s easy to befool a wise than sprout wisdom in fools.
I want to drop a line saying thanks for the day when you allowed me to use your bank account to get money as my ATM was back at home. Rs. 1500 was the amount that I got when I needed it most in my life (so far).
6.
So small are his needs that his whole life can be befitted in a SIP (Sutta, iPOD and Philosophy). I really don’t need to give a second thought when I say he is the best at Alliance in scribbling about non-sense philosophy (Truth needs no evidence…..just click on http://www.sumanmaverick.blogspot.com/ and find it yourself). If I force my mind to count friends at Alliance, it squirrels (with unconditional support of my heart as well) this fu****’* name first of all. If I had to make Suman morph in an Animal, it would be a lion.
No time to say thanks to you for once I start I might end up spending most number of hours on typing only, in my life (so far).
7.
If people have doubts that you are a fool, then remain silent and let them doubt rather than speaking and removing all their doubts.
This is the man who stands as a foundation pillar for our birthday bums tradition. As the waves of sea can’t really soften the solid rock, similarly the forceful kicks of all hostlers have failed bitterly to convert his butter soft buttocks into little hard ones.
Neta has been a born scapegoat from the inception of our PGPM course. Be it birthday bums or classroom gimmicks, he is the one who is picked up unanimously.
Did somebody say if can’t escape, enjoy the rape? Every drop of bear poured into his throat secretively reveals that Our “American Desi Neta” seems to have grasped this lesson very well.
I remember so many times you have helped me with the credits of Rs. 100, sometime Rs. 500 too. Now if I say that they were the best Rs 100 of my life, my readers will think that I am making a fool of them.
Though not best, yet they were helpful many a time. Thanks for that.
8.
We are Indians and any Indian family is incomplete until they have a dog for security of home and time pass of kids. So, one day, to the great pleasure of all of us, Boka brought Amit on third floor.
"If you can’t bite, don’t bark." No!! For Amit, It should be “if you can’t bite, at least bark.” This special breed is fast gaining popularity as they are quite good with computers.
Dogs are generally helpful. Amit too is very helpful. I remember when our “Technocross Head” had sat with me throughout the night to prepare slides for the Quiz Contest. I forgot to express my gratitude next morning but can’t miss this opportunity now. Thank you so much dear for your unconditional and undemanding support for that night.
That was the best quiz contest I ever hosted in my life (so far).
9.
Fatso……..he is. I must say he is the honey bee of Alliance. Nandu F***** has always been a person to be envy of. All time so many girls around. “Why to blame girls?” I always try to console my heart thinking that girls have a natural inclination towards pregnant men. It’s been one year and Nandu is looking in no mood to conceive whatever he has got in his belly.
I really don’t think that I need to thank you for all those assignments you gave me to copy as in my opinion I have compensated you by equal or more number of assignments to copy for. But I must say I have seen the heights of amicability during the injury of your roomy “Misbah”. Injured he was but I have seen you hauling yourself to the extent impossible just not to let your roomy suffer. Hats off to you, dear.
10.
One really doesn’t need to crack head. Just one raw look at his face and one can make out that he is the only rabbit of 3rd floor. You interact with him and understand that his soul also supports your findings. The only thing I don’t like about him is that he forgets things a lot. It’s great to happen if I owe him. But somehow every single time, naturally or deliberately, it turns out that he owes me money. Even now when I am writing he owes me Rs. 50. Vibhor, my friend, if you remember those Rs. 50………Opppps. I am sure you don’t remember. But please don’t assume that I endeavored to write all these pages with the willful intention of reminding you about Rs. 50. I have other much better and easier ways to do that.
But, to your misfortune, if this write up, somehow, has become successful to spark a sense of liability in your oblivious mind, then I will be more than happy to see your clumsy face with a fake smile and moron hands with a note of Rs 50 when I open my door tomorrow morning.
Jokes apart, you are a fantastic soul and one of the best things I enjoy on 3rd floor is your melodious voice. Thanks for the unsolicited singing which reminds me of the herculean stint which that almighty has taken to impart our selfish, meaningless and a “hamsters on a treadmill” like life with the abundance of natural virtues.
I wish I will hear best song of my life, dedicated to Alliance, from your divine throat. I also wish that I will write that song for you to sing.
11.
How many of you have seen “Road Trip”? Remember that tiny and disgustingly stretched guy who had wrestled with a fat Negro lady and was rewarded by the lady with her underpants. The treasure of third floor has been embellished further by the twine of “Road Trip Fighter”.
Whenever I get stressed with the useless assignments and DTAs of my course, I feel like giving two three blows to Harry Potter, albeit Manik. Not because he is the one whom I have any animosity against but because he is the only gentle and naive animal whom even I can dare to pounce upon.
Apart from the delicious chicken that you brought from home after SIP, I am thankful to you for sitting with me to analyze the horrendous budget of 2008 and then limit it to the 250 best possible words as per our frugal knowledge of finance.
In my life (so far)that was the best analysis of Indian Budget.
12.
Seemingly petrified and therefore gentle, this elderly creature had not been able to catch much of my attention. But both of us came a little closer when we were rewarded with damnation in the last week of March, 2008. For a duck who has survived in zoo for 5 years before becoming a part of jungle, it will be very rude of me to say anything demeaning the majesty of our SGC president. Who the hell cares……!!!RUDE I AM. The only thing I enjoy about Chacha is the unusual and fanatical way of saying “BENCHO” for a Hindi abusive word (Those who understood…..I don’t need to explain and those who didn’t they don’t need to).
I take great pleasure in expressing warm thanks on behalf of the whole third floor for whatever our honorable SGC president has done for us (though I am doubtful whether he has actually done anything???). I also take this opportunity to say thanks to Chacha for consoling, guiding and keeping me resilient during the period when I was not on the usual heights my morale to bag a good SIP.
in my life (So far), You have been the best SGC president I have come across.
13.
Deer is an animal which is as harmless as the Munshi (Accountant) of the venerable Panchayat. This position of Munshi is actually a form of disguised unemployment and therefore seen as an abject occupation. Sahil, albeit, Munshi is a very sanctimonious kind of animal. Every single morning he offers his prayers and for that he has to come down to our room for a match box. (Hey man, it’s not very costly. Why don’t you buy one?)
I am a big fan of the perseverance of Sahil. I remember he had got least score in the class in B.S.(Business Statistics i.e. Bull Shit) in first DTA with a total of 12. Next time he worked extremly hard , raised the bar for himself and managed not to get the least score. He got 12.5. But the glow on his face was essentially being sourced by his insurmountable delightment from the fact that he had made an improvement of half a mark which in no way was inferior to half a mile towards the hidden treasure of the hero of “Alchemist.”
I am hereby being forced, partially by heart and partially by dirt, to say thanks for maintaining the unflappable supply chain of vicious material which some time is the only support during chosen or random seclusions.
I have seen the best dirt in my life*(so far) because of you.
14.
By this time you must have figured it out that who are going to be the next on the journey. They are consciously cruel. They are corrupt. They are wild; rather I’ll say they are vile. Even then they are the gods of third floor. Collectively they are known as Panchayat.
Hey panchayat ! Hey panchayat!! Hey panchayat!!!
Let me take the honor of introducing you to the most vicious and spiteful gang of our Panches. Welcome on the blog- Mr. Aadi, Mr. Misbah, Mr. Shashank albeit Boka, Mr. Navjot (NJ), Mr. Rakesh and Mr. Tani. These are the majestic mogul of 3rd floor.
Keeping aside my willies and after watching “Rang de Basanti”, I have dared to dictate my very wimp pen to write about Panchayat and their atrocities.
I would like to symbolize them with a herd of leopards that will kill its prey on its whims and fancies. Panch of 3rd floor have a very unique judiciary system. In this system your punishment is identified as Justice. The slogan for panchayat is “Take it easy, but take it.”
It is really beyond my feeble sense of reasoning that what is it that I should be thankful to them for. For this unbearable and non-venial crime, I heartily apologize.
However, when I look back to find what was it that made me to write a blog on 3rd floor, I find that the distinctiveness and the respect that 3rd floor has been able to command in Udupa-2 was one of the factors behind my upright motivation. This respect, this glory, this status would not have been achieved without the perennial and untiring endeavors of tortures of our benign Panchayat. They are corrupt, mean and big time ch***** but at least they accept and acknowledge it happily. I take great pride in being a part of the floor which is full of such cruel, wicked and WILD animals.
Without any doubt, this is the best panchayat of my life (so far). Hey Panchayat!!!!!
15.
So, how was the journey so far?
It is yet incomplete. Last and least as well, here I am. Which animal shall I related myself with? I leave this for you to decide.
I want to thank myself as well for giving so much time to write this huge blog which is dedicated to all the jungle of third floor.
I think this is the best blog I have written in my life (so far).
We, the third floor animals, are grateful to you for spending your precious time with us.
You are the best tourist to our jungle (so far).
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Tirupati
Your God might be where you try to find, my god is where I want HIM.
“It’s a life time opportunity. Let’s not think and just go.” Said Manoj
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me in the office?” I shouted at Niemish in usual manner.
“Because I didn’t know about his plan”. Replied Niemish, in his ever composed tone.
“Can’t wait. It’s too crowdy on weekends.” Manoj declared.
It was 6: 30 and we were just back from the office. Manoj was ready with his half baked plan of going to “Tirupati” that night only. After arguing a little bit with each other, we finally agreed (had to) to embark on that night itself. Manoj, somehow, managed to get last three seats of the last Volvo bus for that night. I didn’t have a single penny in my pocket and didn’t know how I was going to manage all the expenditure. (But then Niemish, my friend, was always there.)
We started “Chadhai” (a prowl towards god’s place, supposed to be a walk) at 8:36 in the morning. One of our friends had told (challenged) that it took just two hours for him to walk through the whole way of about nine k.ms. So, we estimated that it's not going to take more than 3 Hours for us to reach.
Within first 2 k.ms, we had taken around 10 breaks and it took us 1.5 hour to walk those two unassailable k. ms.
“Why did god choose to sit so high in mountains?” I threw my question in air.
“God must not be having enough cash to buy a flat in B.T.M., I guess. You see the real estate prices.” Manoj said nonchalantly (tying his hanky on forehead)
“It’s a test of devotion. The hardship that you face for “darshana” shows how dedicated you are to God.” Niemish said with his rabbit like voice.
“Hardship!!!! Is it like exams???” I was exclaimed.
“Yaa”. Niemish said while looking at a decent girl surreptitiously.
“Then why are all of us not on the same level. I mean some people can go by their cars, some by bus, we are walking and some go prostrate. You can’t differentiate between their devotion on the basis of the mode of travel.”
“May be we can’t. But God can. Like in exams some work hard (prostrate), some ask each other (bus), some copy (car) and some clever foxes bring books along in exams (celebrities).”
“Hmmm! That seems logical. F*****, some time you speak sense.”
“You can get a good CGPA by copying. But how will you justify it to your conscience?”
“But the conscience never stands apart you and if it does then you can easily substantiate its non-existence.”
“What the f*** you guys are yelling about? Let’s have some mango slices.” Manoj said hiding his desire to have another break.
“Ya……they look awesome.” Niemish sighed while lying down on the footpath.
We bought 9 slices for Rs 18.
After restarting the journey we decided not to talk to each other and took the next break just arguing that who was talking most.
“Hey! You are supposed to go bare feet.” A woman/pilgrim cautioned us.
“Ignore her! I don’t see any probability of God catching us with foot wears. He must be very busy, entertaining thousands of pilgrims for “darshana”. These days A/C is there in temple. What fun God might find in roaming around in jungle in this scorching heat.” Manoj, of course the smartest chap, advised us.
“These mango slices are so fascinating. I just can’t resist anymore.” Niemish mewed.
“We had them just five minutes ago!!” Manoj almost scolded him.
“Don’t you dare! No social animal should ever be resisted from placating its hunger, No matter its 1st degree, 2nd degree or 3rd Degree, condition applied.”
“Ask her to put more masala.” Manoj said looking at a deer that was grazing while peeing also. “Multi-tasking, man! Shortest and fastest food chain.”
This time it was 9 slices for Rs 9 only.
On the next break, we bought a complete mango for Rs. 5.
“I guess, when we reach the temple, mangoes will be free.” Niemish wondered innocently.
The only thing I waited was the time when a religious wave would hit my heart and it will become pious and pure, at least till “Darshana” as usually happens with me whenever I go to religious places. But it seemed to be protracted. My eyes were constantly looking for beautiful faces. Good figure supported by the right kind of attire was always a welcome.
We kept on hauling ourselves. It seemed a never ending journey. Walking, talking, enjoying, sleeping but constantly keeping our keen eyes open making sure not to miss any opportunity to solicit a gentle comment for the beauty of any passing by girl, we finally reached at the special land where God had decided (though not sure) to dwell upon. I was still waiting for that religious whiff to come and blow my mind away to allow my heart to think independently, (heart never thinks, I guess).
The first thing that I noticed was that there were more than usual number of Taklus (bald) roaming around with an eternal glow on their face (Was it face?) as if their sins had committed suicide with their each harvested hair. Then, it was nothing but surprise for me; there were "Taklis" (bald females) also who were seemingly proud of the fact that they had an arena where they could be at par with their counter parts.
“Guys, we need to put off our footwear.” Manoj directed towards a free cloak room. By its dilapidated condition it was nothing but very obvious that it was being maintained by government. We had to deposit our cell phones also because there could be a bomb plugged in it and we could be terrorists also!!!
(And of course, the lax security system had all the reason to relax once your cell phones were detached from you. Did somebody say that there are many more ways to hide bombs apart from mobile phones? Its all fine with me. But Niemish, I could listen to your oriental heartbeats.)
“By what time are we supposed to see God?” Manoj enquired.
“Do we have an appointment with God?” I wondered.
“Of course, you dumb! God is a big celebrity. Do you think he will let you see him without an appointment?”
“Its 3’o clock. But its reporting time and not the “Darshana” time.” Niemish sighed as a robbed kid.
“Ok! So these guys will open the gate at 3. I can’t sit and do nothing. Let me fetch a newspaper. Niemish, are you coming with me?” I asked.
“It’s a bad idea, yaar! You will get no time to read it. Let’s sit down and….” Niemish chuckled secretively.
“And what?”
“Check out the chicks, if we find anyone, what else!” he was feeling embarrassed on my failure to decipher his smiling dispositions.
“One can find oasis in desert and not ocean, my dear!”
“Ok go and get your ocean.”
Gate opened and people started chanting with all excitement. I was impressed. I later noticed that they were only a few women shouting at each other to get their way through. With all due care to shame, some of them had exchanged punches backed by pungent and heavy abusive words. Queue was moving slowly but some women who wanted to see God earlier were pushing us behind as if it were the last day when the idol of the god was lying there.
I just thought how many times these women would visit “Tirupati” in their life. I don’t know, but if God is supposed to live in that special temple, then every moment you are there, is special. So if you are trying to see that idol earlier than others, then aren’t you shortening the time you are going to spend with that almighty?
Leave it. But I can bet if God could be symbolized with a cake and not by an idol, I must have taught those freaking ladies one or two lessons of “The Art of War.”
Nearer I was coming to the temple, everything seemed more and more irrational. Should not say, but I was thinking more about the ladoos than the idol of the god. Maybe this life has made us so inflexible to think beyond the logic and rationality. Maybe we are so bounded by the materialistic world that our mind is unwilling/ unable to believe in immaterial, rather celestial objects which cannot be supported by scientific evidences.
The only question pestering my mind was who had declared that god was living in that particular temple………? (Logical but still foolish idiosyncrasy of an illusive business student.)
And imagine what……….I got the answer. Not the perfect but the one which can dare to stand by the acrid subjectivity of question, with careful wisdom and unwavered confidence.
Why do we go school for education? Obviously as it is supposed to be the recognized, formal and unquestionably absolute place for learning, by its purpose. It really doesn’t matter how its acts turn out to be, as long as its actions truly and unconditionally intend to abide by its purpose. Most of the people get (or they think they get) educated in the school but not all. (Generalization). So, those vagabonds who dare to measure the unexplored direction searching for so called true learning should have no right, by any virtue, to project school as a MYOPIC PLATFORM for true learning.
Finding:
Purpose can never lead you to superstition. It’s only the magnitude of the stupidity of your action (concentrating on “WHAT” rather than “WHY”) which makes it look like superstition,
After waiting for only two and a half hour, we were there in the main temple where the God was supposed to live. And finally I was there where I could see that idol of God. It was almost a stampede. For first 10 second I just looked at the idol to find what uncanny gravity it had that attracted so many people from different corner of world. Suddenly I felt a weight on my shoulders. And there was a man shouting “Govinda- Govinda” almost knocking his way through my delicate and unwary head. I just caught hold of banisters of aisles to let the man have a rapacious sprint towards idol. I was being hauled by queue and literally walking blank like a man in “coma”. It was only when I came out, I realized that “Durshana” was over and I had forgotten to request God to take some extra pain of converting my dreams into reality.
People were now rushing away breaking all queues as if they had seen a man-eating ghost a little ago. Later I realized that all that hurry was to get “ladoos” as fast as possible.
“Give me your coupons, I’ll get ladoos.” Manoj, almost grabbing our coupons, advised with all his dominance.
“Ya, till then we get cell phones.” Niemish, whose heart was beating somewhere else, murmured.
“And of course, foot wears.” I, rather my soles cried. Manoj dived again in crowd.
“Please!” I gave coupon to receptionist of cloak room and pointed towards our foot wears.
“Here you are.”
“Thank you.” Saying, we turned.
“Sir, change!” he said as if he were annoyed of repeating it time and again.
“For what?” I exclaimed.
“Foot wears!” He was more than exclaimed. “As per your devotion.” With a shrewd and shameless smile on his face.
“Devotion?”
“Ya, whatever. For our services.”
I offered one and a half rupee in his dignity and of course, as per my devotion.
Next were our cell phones.
I showed the coupon at counter and they brought our cell phones.
“Fees as per your devotion and sign here.” The robust man sitting on the counter pointed towards delivery signatures on the coupons.
“I am afraid sir; I have utilized all my devotion to get our foot wears at the last cloakroom.”
“Hmm! You can’t take away these cell phones for your signature doesn’t match with the depositor’s.” crooked keeper grunted, showing me Manoj’s signature
“Ok, got it! Please wait till I arrange for devotion.”
Seeing me empty handed, Niemish got scared.
“I’m running short of devotion. If you have any, go and get them.”
“Let me see.” Niemish probed his wallet suspiciously. It was only with the joint devotion of all of us that we got our cell phones emancipated.
Finally, we bade adieu to God and checked out the temple.
“Was nice and I’m feeling better now.” Niemish, clutching his cell phone, chuckled
“Ya, relieved!” I said looking at the people who had just arrived.
“Now what?” Manoj asked.
“First we go to room, take rest, see nice girls on M T.V., have dinner and then catch bus.” Niemish (almost napping) murmured.
“Great! By morning we will be back to hostel.”
So this was all about our Tirupati visit.
Let’s talk business:
Every day, on an average, 60000 pilgrims visit Tirupati. And by common sense, we can imagine that hardly anybody come without foot wears. Considering the religious values attached, if I assume a devotion of one rupee per pilgrim and take into account even the competition of existing cloakrooms along with other factors, market size was not less than Rs 10000 per day. Cost is nothing as cloakroom’s infrastructure is supported by government. I am thinking about submitting a proposal to government for opening another cloakroom.
To differentiate, I want to have a beautiful girl as receptionist. We can share 50-50. Not a bad offer!!!……what do you think? Wanna join the cloakroom????
“It’s a life time opportunity. Let’s not think and just go.” Said Manoj
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me in the office?” I shouted at Niemish in usual manner.
“Because I didn’t know about his plan”. Replied Niemish, in his ever composed tone.
“Can’t wait. It’s too crowdy on weekends.” Manoj declared.
It was 6: 30 and we were just back from the office. Manoj was ready with his half baked plan of going to “Tirupati” that night only. After arguing a little bit with each other, we finally agreed (had to) to embark on that night itself. Manoj, somehow, managed to get last three seats of the last Volvo bus for that night. I didn’t have a single penny in my pocket and didn’t know how I was going to manage all the expenditure. (But then Niemish, my friend, was always there.)
We started “Chadhai” (a prowl towards god’s place, supposed to be a walk) at 8:36 in the morning. One of our friends had told (challenged) that it took just two hours for him to walk through the whole way of about nine k.ms. So, we estimated that it's not going to take more than 3 Hours for us to reach.
Within first 2 k.ms, we had taken around 10 breaks and it took us 1.5 hour to walk those two unassailable k. ms.
“Why did god choose to sit so high in mountains?” I threw my question in air.
“God must not be having enough cash to buy a flat in B.T.M., I guess. You see the real estate prices.” Manoj said nonchalantly (tying his hanky on forehead)
“It’s a test of devotion. The hardship that you face for “darshana” shows how dedicated you are to God.” Niemish said with his rabbit like voice.
“Hardship!!!! Is it like exams???” I was exclaimed.
“Yaa”. Niemish said while looking at a decent girl surreptitiously.
“Then why are all of us not on the same level. I mean some people can go by their cars, some by bus, we are walking and some go prostrate. You can’t differentiate between their devotion on the basis of the mode of travel.”
“May be we can’t. But God can. Like in exams some work hard (prostrate), some ask each other (bus), some copy (car) and some clever foxes bring books along in exams (celebrities).”
“Hmmm! That seems logical. F*****, some time you speak sense.”
“You can get a good CGPA by copying. But how will you justify it to your conscience?”
“But the conscience never stands apart you and if it does then you can easily substantiate its non-existence.”
“What the f*** you guys are yelling about? Let’s have some mango slices.” Manoj said hiding his desire to have another break.
“Ya……they look awesome.” Niemish sighed while lying down on the footpath.
We bought 9 slices for Rs 18.
After restarting the journey we decided not to talk to each other and took the next break just arguing that who was talking most.
“Hey! You are supposed to go bare feet.” A woman/pilgrim cautioned us.
“Ignore her! I don’t see any probability of God catching us with foot wears. He must be very busy, entertaining thousands of pilgrims for “darshana”. These days A/C is there in temple. What fun God might find in roaming around in jungle in this scorching heat.” Manoj, of course the smartest chap, advised us.
“These mango slices are so fascinating. I just can’t resist anymore.” Niemish mewed.
“We had them just five minutes ago!!” Manoj almost scolded him.
“Don’t you dare! No social animal should ever be resisted from placating its hunger, No matter its 1st degree, 2nd degree or 3rd Degree, condition applied.”
“Ask her to put more masala.” Manoj said looking at a deer that was grazing while peeing also. “Multi-tasking, man! Shortest and fastest food chain.”
This time it was 9 slices for Rs 9 only.
On the next break, we bought a complete mango for Rs. 5.
“I guess, when we reach the temple, mangoes will be free.” Niemish wondered innocently.
The only thing I waited was the time when a religious wave would hit my heart and it will become pious and pure, at least till “Darshana” as usually happens with me whenever I go to religious places. But it seemed to be protracted. My eyes were constantly looking for beautiful faces. Good figure supported by the right kind of attire was always a welcome.
We kept on hauling ourselves. It seemed a never ending journey. Walking, talking, enjoying, sleeping but constantly keeping our keen eyes open making sure not to miss any opportunity to solicit a gentle comment for the beauty of any passing by girl, we finally reached at the special land where God had decided (though not sure) to dwell upon. I was still waiting for that religious whiff to come and blow my mind away to allow my heart to think independently, (heart never thinks, I guess).
The first thing that I noticed was that there were more than usual number of Taklus (bald) roaming around with an eternal glow on their face (Was it face?) as if their sins had committed suicide with their each harvested hair. Then, it was nothing but surprise for me; there were "Taklis" (bald females) also who were seemingly proud of the fact that they had an arena where they could be at par with their counter parts.
“Guys, we need to put off our footwear.” Manoj directed towards a free cloak room. By its dilapidated condition it was nothing but very obvious that it was being maintained by government. We had to deposit our cell phones also because there could be a bomb plugged in it and we could be terrorists also!!!
(And of course, the lax security system had all the reason to relax once your cell phones were detached from you. Did somebody say that there are many more ways to hide bombs apart from mobile phones? Its all fine with me. But Niemish, I could listen to your oriental heartbeats.)
“By what time are we supposed to see God?” Manoj enquired.
“Do we have an appointment with God?” I wondered.
“Of course, you dumb! God is a big celebrity. Do you think he will let you see him without an appointment?”
“Its 3’o clock. But its reporting time and not the “Darshana” time.” Niemish sighed as a robbed kid.
“Ok! So these guys will open the gate at 3. I can’t sit and do nothing. Let me fetch a newspaper. Niemish, are you coming with me?” I asked.
“It’s a bad idea, yaar! You will get no time to read it. Let’s sit down and….” Niemish chuckled secretively.
“And what?”
“Check out the chicks, if we find anyone, what else!” he was feeling embarrassed on my failure to decipher his smiling dispositions.
“One can find oasis in desert and not ocean, my dear!”
“Ok go and get your ocean.”
Gate opened and people started chanting with all excitement. I was impressed. I later noticed that they were only a few women shouting at each other to get their way through. With all due care to shame, some of them had exchanged punches backed by pungent and heavy abusive words. Queue was moving slowly but some women who wanted to see God earlier were pushing us behind as if it were the last day when the idol of the god was lying there.
I just thought how many times these women would visit “Tirupati” in their life. I don’t know, but if God is supposed to live in that special temple, then every moment you are there, is special. So if you are trying to see that idol earlier than others, then aren’t you shortening the time you are going to spend with that almighty?
Leave it. But I can bet if God could be symbolized with a cake and not by an idol, I must have taught those freaking ladies one or two lessons of “The Art of War.”
Nearer I was coming to the temple, everything seemed more and more irrational. Should not say, but I was thinking more about the ladoos than the idol of the god. Maybe this life has made us so inflexible to think beyond the logic and rationality. Maybe we are so bounded by the materialistic world that our mind is unwilling/ unable to believe in immaterial, rather celestial objects which cannot be supported by scientific evidences.
The only question pestering my mind was who had declared that god was living in that particular temple………? (Logical but still foolish idiosyncrasy of an illusive business student.)
And imagine what……….I got the answer. Not the perfect but the one which can dare to stand by the acrid subjectivity of question, with careful wisdom and unwavered confidence.
Why do we go school for education? Obviously as it is supposed to be the recognized, formal and unquestionably absolute place for learning, by its purpose. It really doesn’t matter how its acts turn out to be, as long as its actions truly and unconditionally intend to abide by its purpose. Most of the people get (or they think they get) educated in the school but not all. (Generalization). So, those vagabonds who dare to measure the unexplored direction searching for so called true learning should have no right, by any virtue, to project school as a MYOPIC PLATFORM for true learning.
Finding:
Purpose can never lead you to superstition. It’s only the magnitude of the stupidity of your action (concentrating on “WHAT” rather than “WHY”) which makes it look like superstition,
After waiting for only two and a half hour, we were there in the main temple where the God was supposed to live. And finally I was there where I could see that idol of God. It was almost a stampede. For first 10 second I just looked at the idol to find what uncanny gravity it had that attracted so many people from different corner of world. Suddenly I felt a weight on my shoulders. And there was a man shouting “Govinda- Govinda” almost knocking his way through my delicate and unwary head. I just caught hold of banisters of aisles to let the man have a rapacious sprint towards idol. I was being hauled by queue and literally walking blank like a man in “coma”. It was only when I came out, I realized that “Durshana” was over and I had forgotten to request God to take some extra pain of converting my dreams into reality.
People were now rushing away breaking all queues as if they had seen a man-eating ghost a little ago. Later I realized that all that hurry was to get “ladoos” as fast as possible.
“Give me your coupons, I’ll get ladoos.” Manoj, almost grabbing our coupons, advised with all his dominance.
“Ya, till then we get cell phones.” Niemish, whose heart was beating somewhere else, murmured.
“And of course, foot wears.” I, rather my soles cried. Manoj dived again in crowd.
“Please!” I gave coupon to receptionist of cloak room and pointed towards our foot wears.
“Here you are.”
“Thank you.” Saying, we turned.
“Sir, change!” he said as if he were annoyed of repeating it time and again.
“For what?” I exclaimed.
“Foot wears!” He was more than exclaimed. “As per your devotion.” With a shrewd and shameless smile on his face.
“Devotion?”
“Ya, whatever. For our services.”
I offered one and a half rupee in his dignity and of course, as per my devotion.
Next were our cell phones.
I showed the coupon at counter and they brought our cell phones.
“Fees as per your devotion and sign here.” The robust man sitting on the counter pointed towards delivery signatures on the coupons.
“I am afraid sir; I have utilized all my devotion to get our foot wears at the last cloakroom.”
“Hmm! You can’t take away these cell phones for your signature doesn’t match with the depositor’s.” crooked keeper grunted, showing me Manoj’s signature
“Ok, got it! Please wait till I arrange for devotion.”
Seeing me empty handed, Niemish got scared.
“I’m running short of devotion. If you have any, go and get them.”
“Let me see.” Niemish probed his wallet suspiciously. It was only with the joint devotion of all of us that we got our cell phones emancipated.
Finally, we bade adieu to God and checked out the temple.
“Was nice and I’m feeling better now.” Niemish, clutching his cell phone, chuckled
“Ya, relieved!” I said looking at the people who had just arrived.
“Now what?” Manoj asked.
“First we go to room, take rest, see nice girls on M T.V., have dinner and then catch bus.” Niemish (almost napping) murmured.
“Great! By morning we will be back to hostel.”
So this was all about our Tirupati visit.
Let’s talk business:
Every day, on an average, 60000 pilgrims visit Tirupati. And by common sense, we can imagine that hardly anybody come without foot wears. Considering the religious values attached, if I assume a devotion of one rupee per pilgrim and take into account even the competition of existing cloakrooms along with other factors, market size was not less than Rs 10000 per day. Cost is nothing as cloakroom’s infrastructure is supported by government. I am thinking about submitting a proposal to government for opening another cloakroom.
To differentiate, I want to have a beautiful girl as receptionist. We can share 50-50. Not a bad offer!!!……what do you think? Wanna join the cloakroom????
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
she
I was going to shopping mall with my friend who is also my colleague cum class mate. It was drizzling and auto stopped on signal of a busy cross. “Five minutes at least……”my friend sighed. “I have to prepare for day after tomorrow’s exam.”
“Hmm…… Thanks for coming with me.”
“Dosti ki hai to nibhani padegi hi” she said sarcastically and deliberately (smiling) without looking at me.
Suddenly, a girl of about 9-10 just appeared from nowhere and starting persuading me to buy a pen which sprinkled. (Though I’m not sure whether it could write.)
“I don’t have change” I said and genuinely I didn’t have. (Though I’m still not sure whether I’d have bought that pen if I had change.)
She again said something in Kannada which I didn’t understand but could make out that she was hungry and needed money to buy food.
Now my friend, a localite, replied that we didn’t have change. Beggar reverted again and we chorused same thing again.
That girl now requested me humbly, touching my feet, to give her something. I quickly leaned back shooing her away, looking at my friend with questioning eyes and grimaced face as if the beggar was an untouchable and had committed a heinous crime.
“Don’t look at and answer her.”
“How can I ignore her? She seems so helpless.”
“This is their business. Haven’t you seen that movie “traffic signal”?
By this time the girl had figured out that she was not going to get anything from us. She uttered something which we could not understand. Suddenly, she hit me on my shoulder with all her force and ran away.
“Understood. See the kind of people they are!” my friend said.
“What kind of people?”
“They all pretend.”
“But if they don’t, nobody will give them alms.”
“Because of these people, those who really need don’t get alms.”
“Hmmm”.
Signal was green and auto rickshaw started. We had a sigh of relief. But I could not efface the image of that beggar from my mind. What could have made her so violent? What environment she was living in? Was it I whom she was showing her anger against?
I tried to put myself in her place and I got shivered till inside.
What would that girl be dreaming about? What could be the objective of her life? What she wanted to be?
What miracle she was waiting for?
A dawn when she could enjoy the sun-rise. Or for a night when she would not have to worry about the breakfast next morning. If I was one of them who were making her feel nervous about her breakfast, I don’t mind her pushing me.
If she was forced to sell a particular number of pens to get dinner and I had turned out to be an unsuccessful lead, I don’t mind her trying to hurt me.
If she was dreaming about a day when she would have enough rags on her body to avoid unwanted attention of lecherous men and if I was one of those men, I don’t mind her even slapping me.
Great people say that we are the architecture of our own destiny. We are the reason for our present and responsible for our future. Now how does that girl control her present to make her future a little less troublesome? I don’t complain against that girl but I do complain against the society which is responsible for her regretful condition. A society that comprises such illiterate parents who leave their children with the legacy of such a disgraceful life. A society that has devils disguised in human beings who run the business of making children beg. If I am a part of this society, I don’t mind that girl spitting on my face.
We keep on complaining about our lives and the limited resources we have to fulfill our dreams. We never appreciate the scant privileges that we have been bestowed by god. Let’s first express unconditional gratitude to God for all that we have and try to help those people who don’t even have the basic amenities of life, no matter how meager our efforts are. Even if we are able to bring a small but meaningful change in their life, that action, at individual level, will achieve its purpose because it will make a soul happy.
If not their at least our.
“Hmm…… Thanks for coming with me.”
“Dosti ki hai to nibhani padegi hi” she said sarcastically and deliberately (smiling) without looking at me.
Suddenly, a girl of about 9-10 just appeared from nowhere and starting persuading me to buy a pen which sprinkled. (Though I’m not sure whether it could write.)
“I don’t have change” I said and genuinely I didn’t have. (Though I’m still not sure whether I’d have bought that pen if I had change.)
She again said something in Kannada which I didn’t understand but could make out that she was hungry and needed money to buy food.
Now my friend, a localite, replied that we didn’t have change. Beggar reverted again and we chorused same thing again.
That girl now requested me humbly, touching my feet, to give her something. I quickly leaned back shooing her away, looking at my friend with questioning eyes and grimaced face as if the beggar was an untouchable and had committed a heinous crime.
“Don’t look at and answer her.”
“How can I ignore her? She seems so helpless.”
“This is their business. Haven’t you seen that movie “traffic signal”?
By this time the girl had figured out that she was not going to get anything from us. She uttered something which we could not understand. Suddenly, she hit me on my shoulder with all her force and ran away.
“Understood. See the kind of people they are!” my friend said.
“What kind of people?”
“They all pretend.”
“But if they don’t, nobody will give them alms.”
“Because of these people, those who really need don’t get alms.”
“Hmmm”.
Signal was green and auto rickshaw started. We had a sigh of relief. But I could not efface the image of that beggar from my mind. What could have made her so violent? What environment she was living in? Was it I whom she was showing her anger against?
I tried to put myself in her place and I got shivered till inside.
What would that girl be dreaming about? What could be the objective of her life? What she wanted to be?
What miracle she was waiting for?
A dawn when she could enjoy the sun-rise. Or for a night when she would not have to worry about the breakfast next morning. If I was one of them who were making her feel nervous about her breakfast, I don’t mind her pushing me.
If she was forced to sell a particular number of pens to get dinner and I had turned out to be an unsuccessful lead, I don’t mind her trying to hurt me.
If she was dreaming about a day when she would have enough rags on her body to avoid unwanted attention of lecherous men and if I was one of those men, I don’t mind her even slapping me.
Great people say that we are the architecture of our own destiny. We are the reason for our present and responsible for our future. Now how does that girl control her present to make her future a little less troublesome? I don’t complain against that girl but I do complain against the society which is responsible for her regretful condition. A society that comprises such illiterate parents who leave their children with the legacy of such a disgraceful life. A society that has devils disguised in human beings who run the business of making children beg. If I am a part of this society, I don’t mind that girl spitting on my face.
We keep on complaining about our lives and the limited resources we have to fulfill our dreams. We never appreciate the scant privileges that we have been bestowed by god. Let’s first express unconditional gratitude to God for all that we have and try to help those people who don’t even have the basic amenities of life, no matter how meager our efforts are. Even if we are able to bring a small but meaningful change in their life, that action, at individual level, will achieve its purpose because it will make a soul happy.
If not their at least our.
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