Blast From the Past...

A few days back I got reacquainted with a person from my past. This person had his accountancy coaching class in the ground floor of my building premises, whereas we lived on the first floor. At that time, I too was in the final year of my graduation course.

Many of my friends were his students. The starting of this class changed the atmosphere of the building. Young boys, who otherwise loitered around the streets, now hovered in our premises to eye the girls who came there to study. Gossipy aunties who previously had only neighbours and relatives to talk about, now had more “juice” to make their afternoons interesting by ridiculing the dressing sense of some “modern” girls and by making their own “couples” pair. The lone general store in the premises started doing roaring business…..in short a lot of changes took place.

As I was not part of the class, but was in the same degree course, I ran into some stumbling blocks during exam time. With no one to run to for help (we didn’t own a telephone in those days!), I went, albeit very hesitatingly, to Sir to ask for help, completely prepared to be turned down as I was not his student. Imagine my surprise, when he not only welcomed me, but explained the content in such an easy manner that I was left wondering what was so difficult in the first place? His generosity, his ability to make the student comfortable and his ease of teaching left a lasting impression on me.

I now started observing his dedication and passion for his work more closely. Through some of his students, I came to know that he suffered from allergy to chalk dust and had some other breathing ailment too. Yet, I never saw him using that as an excuse to shirk away from work. No one was turned away from asking doubts and difficulties….in fact many of his students lived in our building itself and took all kinds of liberties with his time, but I do not recollect anyone mentioning that he/she had been turned away.

Soon I got married and shifted away from my home in Chembur. Marital bliss and then the trapeze artist act of balancing home and office, followed by the birth of my son turned life into one whirlwind. Then my family sold off that home to settle in Pune. Chembur home soon became a memory buried in the recesses of the mind. But through some or the other source, Sir came to be mentioned. Be it the starting of “Dawn Club”, the printing of his “Dawn” booklets or my brother’s involvement in Sir’s activities, he was somehow connected to me.

After a few years of corporate life, I decided to quit and be with my son to enjoy his growing years. To occupy myself constructively during the long afternoons, I started teaching. I have experienced firsthand how easy it is to get irritated by repeated queries, how easy it is to lose patience with slow learners and how frustrating it becomes when you are in the throes of teaching passionately and the student is looking at you with a blank expression! At such times, I remembered how Sir’s kindness and patience….and then would count to the proverbial 10, exhaling out all those negative feelings.

Now, through FB, I got in touch with him and believe it or not, he happened to read my blog, where my last post was in Jan 2009! I had forgotten its existence! Through his persuasive skills (believe me, even online he has the power of persuasion!) he has compelled me to write again. And…. It feels magical. Thank you dear Gerry Sir, whom the world knows as the famous Gerald D’Cunha. Yeh post aapke naam!

Have We Lost It?

Have we Lost it?

I distinctly remember reading an article written by a British officer of the Raj era wherein he had recorded his observations of the Indian people , their habits, traditions and their idiosyncrasies . Most of it was the regular stuff but what remained imprinted on my mind was this sentence- “The Indians have perfected the art of doing nothing.” It was definitely not said in a sarcastic or mocking vein, but was meant to be taken seriously.

Over a period of time, I mulled over this and started seeing things from his perspective. I got a chance to travel to a lot of places in the interiors of India, small towns, Kasbahs and a few villages too. In Sikkim, in the far flung Yum thang valley, I observed a father with his tiny tot tied to his back in a sling, standing at the edge of one of the many hairpin curves dotting that landscape. He was just standing there, enjoying the gentle evening breeze, watching the sunset and skimming his eyes lovingly over his beloved land. There was such an expression of peace and serenity on his face. I waited impatiently for him to do something, say something or at least move. He did nothing of that sort. He continued being in this Zen like pose for a long time, while I mumbled something about the sheer wastage of time.

On another trip to Himachal, I watched a young teenaged girl sitting on the stone steps leading to her humble abode, observing two young school girls playing a version of hopscotch. She kept looking at them, with a benevolent look and that serene smile once more. I too stopped at observed them. I saw the kids play and was tempted to correct them in their game, tell them about better balancing techniques and offer unsolicited advice on their hopscotch game. However, language created a thankful barrier and I went away disappointed that I could not save the day and polish the skills of two of India’s future stars.

I realized that I was the only one fretting and fuming over the time being wasted and precious seconds being lost forever. This set me thinking that why do we city folks cling onto every moment and try to exploit it to its maximum. We want to use each day, each minute most efficiently so that we become better students, competitive professional and live the maximum life. Why do we do all this? So that we can be HAPPY! So that we may find our peace and be content with life. But we don’t realize that we are on a constantly turning treadmill on which we are running, panting and gasping and finding our destination escaping from our clutches like a mirage vanishing in the desert.

I remembered the words of “Leisure” by William Henry Davies, etched forever in my mind.

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

If the poor soul were alive today, he would never have even imagined how rushed our life has become. “Staring”… I think sometimes we even forget to breathe! We are constantly on the lookout for new ways to torture our already beaten and injured bodies and minds. Multitasking is the mantra for us. If you are not juggling your home, office, family, hobby classes, parties, yoga classes and PTA meetings, you are not even worth being mentioned. The busier you are, the better for you. And then, these serene expressions haunt us.. make us wonder.. why are we doing all this? And then realizations dawns… so that we too may reach that state of nirvana, experience the bliss and calmness.

What was a way of life for us, seems to have been lost somewhere. No offence meant, but the true “ART OF LIVING” runs in our veins. It’s just that we diluted it with protein shakes, too much adrenalin and cocktails. Let us all understand LEISURE in its truest sense.