Life – “a compromise” for Survival

All of us have read lot of success stories but here is a story of a batch topper of ahmedabad university.
Couple of weeks ago, I have seen this guy for the first time. A rickshaw puller by profession, but thrice my age and experience in this shit hole (life). I asked him “IFFCO Chowk”(referring to my destination) he replied back 20 bucks, I accepted the deal and sat on the passenger seat. Suddenly he stopped looked at his rickshaw wheel and said “bad luck its pumchured”.
Today, I happened to see him again and decided to take his rickshaw as he missed out on the 20 bucks last time. (of late I stopped taking rickshaws) but today I wanted to take it for helping the poor guy. I asked him the same question he didn’t say 20 bucks this time around perhaps he recognized me, but he said that the road was miserable because of the overnight rain. I sat on the rickshaw and we set off to IFFCO. It takes 20 minutes to reach my destination from my office. I never knew 20 minutes are enough to know a person and also to feel sympathetic for him. He took the initiative and asked me couple of questions, he was surprised by the fact that I was working in an MNC and didn’t own a bike for myself. I told him that I was a student getting trained at my workplace, he replies back saying “we all are students till death” in fluent English I was shocked that he knew such good English. He continued “you learn a lot from life don’t stop learning as you never know what life has in store for you”. He introduced himself and then said “Batch topper 1961 batch Ahmedabad university” I was shocked he later explained why he was pulling a rickshaw about how he had to toil for his lifetime as his father expired at a young age leaving him with loads of responsibility on his young shoulders. His son was everything for him, he worked a lot and made him a software engineer, but he was perhaps the most unfortunate father “his son expired of an epidemic”. Then he has decided to give up in life he has given away all his property to an orphanage and now he lives on the platform pulling a rickshaw. He made a very interesting (rather disgusting) point about gurgaon “the city might look great with so many towers all around but the people are sick bastards they have no heart and no manners, someone stole my pair of clothes now I am left with only this one”. He was wearing a green t-shirt which no more was green full of stains on it and half torn. I could see his voice broke when he was saying that and then continued “I pull the rickshaw for my survival I have no relations in this world, god bless you son, and may you have the best life ever” with a heavy heart I opened my not so heavy valet and gave him 50 bucks and left the place. Throughout the 20 minute journey I was guilty of making a man who is of thrice my age to pull my weight, I could figure out from the speed that he was in immense pain. But the smile on his face when I gave him the 50 bucks note was satisfying though it didn’t make me feel less guilty but it at least didn’t make me feel worse.

“if he wanted he could have spent rest of his life peacefully with his property, he donated his money and now he is undergoing all the hardships, perhaps he has decided that his purpose of survival on this earth, is to undergo hardships, perhaps he felt god has made him for this purpose, he also must be blaming it on his previous birth” -those were the thoughts that were running through my head on my way back home.

"A World Of His Own "- A Short Story

All the characters in the story are imaginary and resemblance with any person alive or dead is totally coincidental.

Sitting on an old wall, near the market place this man with more wrinkles on his face than teeth or even hair on his head, with a turban heavier than his head, sipping huge puffs of tobacco from his hukka sits this old father, deserted by his own beloved people who are well settled in their lives. As a proud father,he is now a happy man doing what he likes unshakeable from the worldly pressures.

Meanwhile his son an Investment banker, in a nearby city is tensed and overly worked out by his daily work in the not so predictable financial sector. Reading about stocks for most of life and also dreaming about the same when he sleeps. With the fear of being fired any moment, and by working more and more to keep his position safe in the company he spends his weekdays. He now looks older than his age though not as old as his father but definitely much older than his colleagues of the same age.

His sister works in one of the biggest MNC’s in India which recruits atleast a hundred people yearly from each technical college, trains them vigorously for half an year and use them as cheap labor. Yes, we Indians are cheap labor but we also the most effective labor in the world considering our brains to be the best in world. She never liked the work but she now got used to the life , “a compromise” for the 20k that she gets at the end of the month. If anyone asks her suddenly if she was happy the instantaneous answer would be a Big “NO”.

Days are passing by heaven might be the next destination but he is still near the wall sipping his daily share of tobacco from his hukka and keeping himself occupied. He just finished dreaming about the festival which is scheduled after a month when his children are supposed to see him and they are planning an outing to a nearby religious place. He is waiting for that day since the day it was decided couple of months back.

Meanwhile a recession occurred in the United States with the bankers having to work now according to the US timings, there was hardly any time his son was getting out of office totally drained with tons of work loaded on him. It’s been almost a month since he made a call to his dad struck up at his work place for most of his time.

“Its time for her to get married”- I shall discuss it with them when they come to see me during the festival. Says the old man to his friend who accompanies him at the old wall in the market place, after his wife expired a couple of year’s back he was his only companion. Nights seemed longer than days sleeping all alone in his huge mansion, dreaming about some disaster everyday, waking up to it and sitting all alone for the rest of the night.

Tomorrow is the big day when his children were scheduled to meet him, after collecting his new clothes from his tailor and after purchasing gifts for his children he sat down at the same wall puffing tobacco from his hukka hoping that the days passes quickly in a whisker. As always the day seemed to be the longest day of his life.

9pm the the phone rang –“Papa I am sorry to tell You that its not possible for me to visit our village as I am struck with some work out here” same was the dialogue from both his children one after the other within a gap of ten minutes.

Its festival time, he goes to the temple all alone he was a depressed man but he realized that they all were living in this world which is a different world for each one of them. He thinks to himself and then shouts at the top of his voice “my own world” and breaks down into tears.

He had a long sleep that night, he didn’t wake up the whole day, he never would, people realized that only after two days when the body started to stink. They are busy in their own world doing what they never liked much, but that was the priority in their lives at that moment. “May his soul rest in peace” said the saints at the funeral but will it?