Life is super fast in today's world. There is no time to relax, to speculate, to think, no time to laugh. The reason for this fast-paced life is nobody but we. We decide our life, we make it fast, we prefer to have quick showers instead of long bubble baths, we prefer to read magazines instead of books, we prefer to take flights instead of trains. All these definitely do help us save a lot of time but even this saved time is used to device other ways to save even more time. In today's world, a pause is necessary to stay sane. Give time to yourself, meet people, learn things, sing, dance, paint, walk...
Today, after a long and tiring trip to Agra, on my way back, I was planning to catch up on some left over work. We got to our berths and just as I was about to settle down 4 kids-2 girls aged 9 and 12 and 2 boys aged 7 and 9-came and sat with us. After that the next few hours were an unforgettable experience. We asked them everything starting from where they were from and ending at the Malayalam alphabet and they in turn asked us everything ranging from our names to our favourite colours.
They taught us Malayalam, told us about their dreams to become soldiers, I.A.S. officers and scientists, educated us about the must-see places in Kerala(which is where they were from), sand Malayalam songs for us, fed us some South Indian snacks and ofcourse topped it off by being sweet enough to let us borrow their smiles for a few photographs.
Time flew by and it is true, when you're having fun, time flies so for all those living life in the fast lane, start having fun and watch the sights fly by.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thank you...
Life has it's own weird ways...just when you least expect it, life treats you like dirt and when you expect it the most, voila! You are royalty. The best and worst experiences come at the most unexpected times. Some you forget with time, some you cherish for the rest of your life and some of them occupy that little corner of your mind and heart that you can't erase but can only lock up. Everyday you meet people, some stay on, some leave. Some give you tears, some manage to bring that beautiful smile on your face and most just walk by, invisible to you.
Every day you wake up thinking that today is just another day of your life but most days turn out to be roller coaster rides, some good ones, some that leave you with a bad feeling in your stomach. All are not as big as some are, but all of them leave their effect on your life.
Whether it be the kindness of a thela-wala who gave you a free neembu-paani for relief from the sweltering heat, the auto-wala who purposely took you by the longer route to earn more, the hunched back old woman who looked at you with helpless eyes full of longing, or the shopkeeper who haggled with you for twenty minutes just for a nominal amount of 5 Rs., each one of these people, though not a part of your conscious life and memories teach you the basic lessons of life which nobody else can. The kindness of the thela-wala restores your lost faith in humanity, he auto-wala teaches you to be careful before trusting anyone, the old woman makes you realise how lucky you are to have food on your plate and good health and the shopkeeper teaches you how difficult it is to earn your livelihood. These lessons are more precious and important for life compared to anything taught in any classroom.
Most of us don't even realise these small everyday things and ignore all these people who are so instrumental in making "us" and shaping our throughts and principles. People ask me why after every ride in a rickshaw I turn around and thank the rickshaw-wala. The answer is simple. No matter whether they were polite or rude, decent or indecent, they taught me something and left an impression on my life.
It is said that we learn from our mistakes, so isn't it only right to thank the people who help us make those mistakes in the first place so that we can get it right the second time around?
Every day you wake up thinking that today is just another day of your life but most days turn out to be roller coaster rides, some good ones, some that leave you with a bad feeling in your stomach. All are not as big as some are, but all of them leave their effect on your life.
Whether it be the kindness of a thela-wala who gave you a free neembu-paani for relief from the sweltering heat, the auto-wala who purposely took you by the longer route to earn more, the hunched back old woman who looked at you with helpless eyes full of longing, or the shopkeeper who haggled with you for twenty minutes just for a nominal amount of 5 Rs., each one of these people, though not a part of your conscious life and memories teach you the basic lessons of life which nobody else can. The kindness of the thela-wala restores your lost faith in humanity, he auto-wala teaches you to be careful before trusting anyone, the old woman makes you realise how lucky you are to have food on your plate and good health and the shopkeeper teaches you how difficult it is to earn your livelihood. These lessons are more precious and important for life compared to anything taught in any classroom.
Most of us don't even realise these small everyday things and ignore all these people who are so instrumental in making "us" and shaping our throughts and principles. People ask me why after every ride in a rickshaw I turn around and thank the rickshaw-wala. The answer is simple. No matter whether they were polite or rude, decent or indecent, they taught me something and left an impression on my life.
It is said that we learn from our mistakes, so isn't it only right to thank the people who help us make those mistakes in the first place so that we can get it right the second time around?
Why I should get a nobel prize.
One of the burning issues of today in our country and all over the world is urbanisation and the problems caused due to migration of population from rural to urban areas. Our cities are not designed to accomodate the population explosion that happens due to this migration. Facts, figures, charts, all can be presented to you to make a very convincing case, enough to make sure that you begin cursing every villager that you see in the street and thinking to yourself that it is because of them that there is traffic, congestion, pollution, lack of hygiene etc. etc. in your city.
Before you do that, think twice.
A very simple thing that happened today convinced me that no matter what facts or figures point to, India is in it's villages. Most of us Indians pride ourselves on our heritage, our culture, our traditions, our moral values and the ever-helpful nature of our countrymen. Go to any city in India and you will not find more than a handful of people who according to our standards, represent our India. Culture, heritage, moral values, all of these have been sacrificed for the glittering Western influences. Unfortunately, cliched, but true-all that glitters is not gold. We do not even realise how far we have come from our country. Flying kites and singing patriotic songs on National holidays does not show that we are true Indians.
I was returning from my office today and on the way in the middle of a village, one of the rear tyres of the vehicle that I was travelling by got punctured. My colleague and I got a little worried because we had no idea if there were any shops close by that could help us change the tyre of the car. It was only a matter of minutes after we had gotten out of the car to examine the puncture, that there was a young man in his twenties from that very village who stopped by and asked us what was wrong. We told him about the puncture and his immediate reply was, "Do you have a jack?". We replied in the affirmative and the next thing we see is that he is down on the floor checking out the puncture and asking for the necessary tools and our spare tyre. We obediently and gratefully handed them to him. We stood there waiting on him and assisting him in any way possible when we figured that he actually had never changed a tyre before. Since we knew a little bit about it and had seen it being done before, we thought we should help him. Just as we were about to do that, along came a lean, tall man. Without a word he stopped, kneeled down on the ground and told the other man what he was doing wrong and started helping him out. Unfortunately for us, the spare tyre did not contain enough air pressure. We hadn't even thought about what we should do about it when the first man was seen rolling the tyre away merrily. Within minutes he was back with the tyre all filled up with a brilliant gleam in his eye. It was his first time after all. Soon, the tyre was changed and just as we breathed a sigh of relief after replacing the punctured tyre in the cars trunk, we turned around to see the man waiting with a mug of clean water to make us wash our hands. We gratefully did so and offered him some money and a sack full of thanks. He took the sack.
We were strangers to those men, strangers to their village and yet we did not even have to ask for help. They were ready, willing and so very kind. If the same thing happens to us in a city, people stare and drive slowly by. Some even speed up to rub it in!
So really, isn't the village a much better place to be in?
I live in a city but nothing that happens here or nobody that I meet leaves any impression on me but an incident as small and trivial as this has been engraved on my mind forever. Our villages are the places where you can see the stars in the night sky, where the sky is never empty of coloured kites, where kids are seen running around with a thread in their hands rolling a small wagon behind them without any fear, where people sleep with their doors open. If only, we could see that India is not in it's Westernized cities but in it's villages. If instead of villagers moving to cities, the city dwellers moved to the villages. Going back to our roots would solve every single problem that exists in this world today and global warming, carbon credits, pollution, climate change, traffic congestion, overpopulation, unemployment can all be blown away.
So there it is. The perfect solution. Now, can I please have my nobel prize? Somebody? Anybody?
Before you do that, think twice.
A very simple thing that happened today convinced me that no matter what facts or figures point to, India is in it's villages. Most of us Indians pride ourselves on our heritage, our culture, our traditions, our moral values and the ever-helpful nature of our countrymen. Go to any city in India and you will not find more than a handful of people who according to our standards, represent our India. Culture, heritage, moral values, all of these have been sacrificed for the glittering Western influences. Unfortunately, cliched, but true-all that glitters is not gold. We do not even realise how far we have come from our country. Flying kites and singing patriotic songs on National holidays does not show that we are true Indians.
I was returning from my office today and on the way in the middle of a village, one of the rear tyres of the vehicle that I was travelling by got punctured. My colleague and I got a little worried because we had no idea if there were any shops close by that could help us change the tyre of the car. It was only a matter of minutes after we had gotten out of the car to examine the puncture, that there was a young man in his twenties from that very village who stopped by and asked us what was wrong. We told him about the puncture and his immediate reply was, "Do you have a jack?". We replied in the affirmative and the next thing we see is that he is down on the floor checking out the puncture and asking for the necessary tools and our spare tyre. We obediently and gratefully handed them to him. We stood there waiting on him and assisting him in any way possible when we figured that he actually had never changed a tyre before. Since we knew a little bit about it and had seen it being done before, we thought we should help him. Just as we were about to do that, along came a lean, tall man. Without a word he stopped, kneeled down on the ground and told the other man what he was doing wrong and started helping him out. Unfortunately for us, the spare tyre did not contain enough air pressure. We hadn't even thought about what we should do about it when the first man was seen rolling the tyre away merrily. Within minutes he was back with the tyre all filled up with a brilliant gleam in his eye. It was his first time after all. Soon, the tyre was changed and just as we breathed a sigh of relief after replacing the punctured tyre in the cars trunk, we turned around to see the man waiting with a mug of clean water to make us wash our hands. We gratefully did so and offered him some money and a sack full of thanks. He took the sack.
We were strangers to those men, strangers to their village and yet we did not even have to ask for help. They were ready, willing and so very kind. If the same thing happens to us in a city, people stare and drive slowly by. Some even speed up to rub it in!
So really, isn't the village a much better place to be in?
I live in a city but nothing that happens here or nobody that I meet leaves any impression on me but an incident as small and trivial as this has been engraved on my mind forever. Our villages are the places where you can see the stars in the night sky, where the sky is never empty of coloured kites, where kids are seen running around with a thread in their hands rolling a small wagon behind them without any fear, where people sleep with their doors open. If only, we could see that India is not in it's Westernized cities but in it's villages. If instead of villagers moving to cities, the city dwellers moved to the villages. Going back to our roots would solve every single problem that exists in this world today and global warming, carbon credits, pollution, climate change, traffic congestion, overpopulation, unemployment can all be blown away.
So there it is. The perfect solution. Now, can I please have my nobel prize? Somebody? Anybody?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)