Showing posts with label Thought. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thought. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

A day in his life

His day begins when his loving mother shakes him to wake him up to begin his exceedingly long day. This thirteen-year old child does not have the privilege of a morning sleep on the pretext of a stomach ache so he doesn't even try, although much like the other children of his age he loves sleeping in. He dresses up in his khaki colored nikker* and half-sleeved white shirt colored in shades of black, grey and brown over the last three days and hops, skips and jumps for a good fifty minutes to get to Basant Chowk, one of the busy parts of Mumbai, even before the horizon turns light crimson. Once he reaches his destination, a chirpy "Namaste babu!" is uttered to the grave looking gentleman sitting at the counter of the chai ki dukaan and he's all set to hustle about the place taking orders and serving the customers.

The morning time is extremely busy as the Indian population needs to wake up with a refreshing cup of tea in order to make their teeny-weeny contribution to the nation's progress. Splitting the clientele of the area with the only other chai shop in the vicinity, the grave looking owner of the chai shop makes sure that he keeps Chhotu and the like on his toes. The morning clientele of the shop has become pretty much regular. Chhotu even remembers the orders of some of the customers by heart, and repeats their orders as a confirmation from them and proceeds with their orders. The weekday morning blues of a number of grumpy sleepy customers sometimes have Chhotu chided to hurry up for their orders. As the day proceeds, Chhotu's legs get relaxed too. In between serving people, Chhotu also has the responsibility of filling up the display trays, cleaning the tables, and helping the people in the kitchen with meager tasks. There are times in the day when he stands still and stares at the television screen meant for customers, and switches back to reality only when Babu's loud shrill voice pierces his ears.

The chai shop attracts a multitude of diversely cultured people to it - ranging from shopkeepers to call center agents to foreign visitors. Occasionally, some young modern enthusiast asks Chhotu why he doesn't go to school and goes on to explain the benefits of education. Chhotu shrugs and gives his marveled response that he's happy where he is, he can understand what's written on the currency of India, and he can tell fake money from real one and that is all he really cares about. Perhaps that is his way of consoling himself now. Perhaps he really is happy. Being of an observant nature, Chhotu gets to learn every single day of his life. The foreign visitors who go to the chai shop "to get the real feel of India" don't look down on him as a menial person - they are well aware of the dignity of labour. In two years Chhotu has learnt enough English to understand and get his message through to the foreigners. He has also realized that the gora people give more tips than the desi crowd. Occasionally, he sees families coming to the place, where spoilt children of rich parents show attitudes and obstinacy. It is very hard for Chhotu to imagine how that is even possible. But well, he learns - people are different. Life is different to different people too.

Chhotu is what people name him when they see him the first time and call him to place an order "Oye Chhotu! Idhar aa." He's small - he's just thirteen, and that is the most common name that a small working boy gets in India. Chhotu actually has a name that only people in his family are aware of - Ramesh. His world - his mother, his 15 years old elder brother and his 2 years old younger sister, is thankfully a loving family. After Chhotu and his brother reaches in the evening after their long day, their mother has already cooked for them, and they are all set to eat dinner. Chhotu doesn't get to play every day, but every week he gets a day off, and that is what he spends with his friends playing on the roads and the dusty cricket ground close by along with helping his mother take care of his sister and helping her get some bare minimum necessities for the week. Things have been harder to manage for the family recently because of the demise of Chhotu's father and the non-working status of his mother since the birth of his two-years old sister.

He dreams as big as his size. He dreams of owning a similar chai shop some day. He dreams of contributing to get his sister married - his mother talks about that a lot. He dreams of being able to play cricket with his friends everyday. His unrealistic dreams involve meeting Hrithik Roshan some day, and of being extremely rich so that he doesn't have to work at all. Nevertheless, he can separate the reality from his virtual world, and is leading a content life for the moment. He doesn't have the time to sit back and measure the contentment and happiness in his life - he has to do things the way they are now. He'll worry about tomorrow when tomorrow shows its face...

*Half-pants/shorts

Friday, January 23, 2009

The Change

It was for quite a while that everything in life was right or wrong for me. There was no third category where I categorized events - I tried to do things that were right and felt guilty for doing things that were in the wrong category. Most things in life are relative - so are right and wrongs. Things have changed now. The guilt has decreased for doing the wrong things now. As you grow up, the guilt takes a corner in the heart, or rather, we push the guilt to occupy one of the darkest corners of the heart. And once you are able to do this is when you lose your innocence and step into the world of adults.

Things are more "me oriented" now. I do things I "want" to do. Hiding is not lying. lol that is what I say to console myself... I do not know if that is a good thing or bad, but that is how it is now. Life is an ever continuing learning process, and I'm doing my part of the learning. And my part of the living as well. Oh well, the only thing that doesn't have place in my life is regrets, after cigarettes!!!

For the time being, people, listen to Delhi-6 (Masakali and Dil gira kahin par dafatan)... Masakali is amazingly mast and dil gira is an awe-filled song. Must listen I say...


P.S: @Satish, I haven't forgotten the post... I know it's taking a bit longer, but yea, trust me, I am going to get it done soon :)

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Random blah

Everything moves on, they say, with time. And what doesn't move on dies.
And I haven't entirely died. However, certain things do not die, and do not move on either. It's the nature of memories I believe. They do their task - come. I do mine - relive them and die with them.

There's not much I want to say.
Should I? Should I not?
Is it right? Is it not?
Is it needed? Is it not?
Is it expected? Is it not?
Is it wished for? Is it not?
Is it understood? Is it not?
Should I? Should I not?

Songs of these moments:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UeypOvsY91Q
http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=7E1xbX-QSGY

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Express it!!

General observation has led me to believe that it is easier for guys to express their feelings than girls. Be it Bollywood movies or real life, it is the same. Can anyone please help me understand the reason behind this? And yes, I am not talking about crying here :P ... Girls definitely hold the first place in that :).

I am talking in more general terms. Gentlemen find it easy to speak up their mind (or heart), but ladies do not. I think gentlemen reading my blog are not going to be of the same opinion as me. I would really like to know peoples' take on this topic!

Monday, October 13, 2008

On the Walk - II

Ego

The "I" consumes a lot more space in our lives than it should. Yes, I always say that happiness is what "I" want, and that still holds. But the ego is the darker side of I, and it comes into existence because of the ways of the world. A free world would be one in which there are no expectations of anyone. But our world doesn't fit into that definition.

How does expectation have anything to do with ego even remotely?

The way it works is this: Part of the life involves creating contacts - and there are some that are God-given - as we are "social animals". We do favours, and as a return, expect from people. It's very humane to expect for what we've done, although that's not what is right, even on accounts of declaring this act as humane. When the expectation is not fulfilled, there comes a time when my ego comes in, and I stop doing my part. There comes a time when I am so used to getting favours done for me, that I forget to do my part - assuming that I have all the right in the world to be treated in the kingly manner.

I also mentioned "the ways of the world" previously. The ways of the world have created tasks*, and have created certain people to be able to perform those tasks. If a man gets to think that a task is just not meant for him to do, there's nothing that you can do to get the man to accomplish the task, except try to break his ego.

There's also another reason for ego, which I haven't been able to figure out yet. A type of ego that couldn't be explained by either expectations or tasks... If any one can shed some light on another reason, it would be great...

And very funnily, the amount of ego differs between men and women - being so much more in men than in women. Women can forget it for a bit, but men will never do so. Men's pride** is their ego; it cannot be shattered by any living entity. The reason, for the difference, is probably a God's mistake in creation, and acts as another ingredient to the recipe of inequality-of-men-and-women... There's nothing for me to state as a possible reason for the difference.


Footnotes:

*Tasks here are not symbolic of the physical tasks. They' can be a word representing just about any activity, any possible verb.

**Pride is the end result of ego - an ego that swells so much that a person disrupts all contacts with realities, and creates a world of his own - he's the creator and the sole resident of his proud world.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Hidden Treasure

I just read "The Little Prince" written by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, and there are some beautiful thoughts in the novel. Here, I am listing some words that I really loved while reading:


Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.


And, with perhaps a hint of sadness, he added: "Straight ahead of him, nobody can go very far..."


If you were to say to the grown-ups: "I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof," they would not be able to get any idea of that house at all. You would have to say to them: "I saw a house that cost $20,000." Then they would exclaim: "Oh, what a pretty house that is!"


"You know- one loves the sunset, when one is so sad..."


It is such a secret place, the land of tears.


"... Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her..."


"The grown-ups are certainly very, very odd," he said to himself, as he continued on his journey.


"Where are the men?"... "It is a little lonely in the desert..."
"It is also lonely among men," the snake said.


"... Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."


"And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."


"Only the children know what they are looking for," said the little prince. "They waste their time over a rag doll and it becomes very important to them; and if anybody takes it away from them, they cry..."


"The desert is beautiful," the little prince added.
And that was true. I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams...
"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well... "

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Freedom

It is pathetic that, we, the inhabitants of this world, complain about not being free, where we are the ones who cover ourselves behind layers and layers of bondage, and continue to be bound... As I always say, we can, most often than not, choose. We choose worldly responsibilities, societal norms, over what's more important ... and as a result, suffer restraint. Sadly, I am one of this world as well...

It does not count whether the blue colored dress suits me more than the pink one; it doesn't matter what my neighbour would think if I have children that do not get married at "the right age"; it doesn't matter whether I loved and lost, or whether I loved again; it doesn't matter whether I cleared the GMAT test because my mum wanted me to. All that matters in this world is - AM I HAPPY DOING WHAT I AM?

Don't do unto others what you want them to do to you. STOP expecting. Do unto others entirely as you want to do with them. The book Illusions by Richard Bach gives a beautiful, very beautiful example of this. I'd recommend this book for anyone who's really looking at breaking free.

Another powerful and extremely well done book about following what you need to do most is The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho.

But I will be free, someday.




I strive for the day I would be free,
With not a soul to answer

With not a question in mind
With no hunger for love

And with no reasons, no pain

I will be the answer, the enigma
I will be free, someday