Remembering forgotten lessons

*** Before I start narrating the incident, I must warn you that this post is quite long and may turn out to be a little preachy. So if you are looking for something of a lighter mood, you may want to skim through the other posts. ***

Imagine a random, regular day.

9: 45 in the morning and I was in an incredible rush to gulp down the breakfast, lock the doors and windows, comb my unruly and forever entangled hair, switch off all electrical appliances, lock the door and run off to catch the office bus with the 3.5 kg laptop on my back and my mysterious flat shoes conspiring together to make me fall flat on my face on the road.

The doorbell rang.

Highly irritated me: "Who the hell is that now?"

I opened the door with a very unwelcome expression on my face and saw a young man, may be in his thirties. His unclean clothes, the big bag with numerous boxes of incense sticks and his meek expression irritated me all the more.

"Didi, I have brought some very good incense sticks", he began. "Do you want some?" He attempted to thrust a box of incense sticks in my hand.

"Na na Dada. I don't want any", I retorted involuntarily. I was almost ready to close the door on his face.

"Please Didi, take some."

Something in his voice caught my attention. Was it a plea? As if somebody was drowning and asking me to throw a rope.

No, he was not begging. If he had, I would have closed the door right on his face without a second thought. 

I looked at him in the eye (How often do we really look people into their eyes while talking?). There, standing at my door, was a person trying to make an honest living. All he wanted from me was my support.

"Okay Dada, give me two boxes." He gave a visible sigh of relief.

"Sorry Didi, but I have to do something for a living", maybe he realized that he was a botheration to me right then.

"It's okay Dada. I understand. Can't help in these days." He kept nodding. May be he was used to hearing these empty words of sympathy which made no difference in his life.

"Why don't you do one thing? You come next month again and bring more incense sticks for me. I won't be buying from shops in that case", I gave him a proposal. The young haggard face lit up.

"Sure Didi sure. You don't have to worry about incense sticks anymore". 

As I closed my door on a hopeful and energized face and sat down to my breakfast, I didn't feel good. Something stung within me. Where did my sense of responsibility and sensitivity go? Why my first reaction to a person in need was to shut him out?

I pictured this on a broader arena. In this sprawling country with over a billion population, there must be millions like me who make more than a decent income; who have the ability to indulge in expensive luxuries without thinking twice. We are the widely considered “educated class”. Our opinion matters. We are the ones who discuss politics, criticize the government, talk about development, condemn unemployment, agitate against corruption, mock reservation based on caste and religion and see ourselves as the future of the country.

Yet, when we come across a person of lower stature than us, we do not acknowledge him. We give alms to a beggar out of pity. But how many times do we buy from a salesman because we want to appreciate his fight? In this dishonest world where every one of us is more or less corrupt, how many times do we pause and acknowledge a person who is trying hard to live honestly inspite of all odds, fighting hard against life in his own small way?

Discrimination doesn’t germinate from caste, religion or gender. Discrimination arises because we forget that the people around us are human beings too. We forget that all human beings are born with the same basic features and the same basic needs. Hence all human beings should be entitled to the same basic rights to survive. It is simple logic. All the extra details just make life complicated. Some twenty years back, the opening sentence of my EVS book said – “Humans are social beings”, which means humans cannot live isolated. They must share and support each other to thrive. Such a simple, yet profound fact! The lesson of a lifetime. Is it so difficult to remember?

As I locked my door and started off to work, I promised myself that I’ll care. I’ll remember what I have been taught since Day 1, by my parents, my teachers, by the innumerable books I have read.

It doesn’t matter how much money you spend on yourself or others. The least you can do is respect - yourself and those around you.