An Evening of Respect
I couldn’t recognize K when he stood there and greeted me
good evening.
It is natural to forget
the faces and names. Now busy days are
felt busier because the very being busy is for a shallow cause – often to make
profit. Profit making is not a sin but
pretending that one is doing a holy act while working just for money is nothing
but being a fraud. When doctor shows
concern for the patient’s health one might wonder that if the patient had no
money to pay the consulting fee he woudn’t
be able sit in front of the doctor.
The problem comes when the doctor pretends that his primary concern is
the health of people.
So when K stood there I didn’t recognize him. Obviously I was doing a job where my primary
concern was the salary I drew every month.
Human relations were only secondary.
I would rather remember things that could other ways cause me an
increment than remember a face that might not practically be of any use to me.
I offered him a seat.
He said he didn’t expect me there because last time I had
told him that I would resign and leave the place for something better.
There was no chair on the other side of the table. It was kept beside my chair.
He sat down.
Then he introduced me to a children’s magazine. But that didn’t last as I didn’t have any
kids, and as I asked him about his job.
He is paid well. Then the
talk gradually shifted to education. He
was not happy about the way some well educated people treated him.
Formal education has nothing to do with manners. We concluded.
Whenever I went to a new class I would have to send the
students back to the door so that they ask permission before entering the
class.
Money is the new master.
All are but servants to that master.
This generation students realise it in a pretty early stage.
When money becomes the means and end everything else becomes
secondary.
K told me he was not happy with his job. That he would resign and join for PhD. I wished him all the best.
K then started to talk about his life. His mom was duff and dumb. His father lost his life in 1985 Gujarat riot when
K was just 6 months old. His school (where
his mother worked as a peon) threw him out because they thought he was too dull
to study. His mother got him admission
in the Municipality school. It was
better. Government gave grant to poor
students there. That helped K’s family’s
financial condition.
His mother couldn’t teach him in a traditional way as she couldn't speak or hear, instead
she gave him exercises on Maths and English. He was to simply copy them as many times as he could. She had passed her SSC examination and was qualified to teach her
son. K filled in hundreds of papers with
excercises on various subjects.
K did well in school.
K would ride his bicycle for 15 kilometers to Satellite to
learn Spoken English. He spends one hour
before the mirror practicing English speaking.
His journey has been wonderful.
I didn’t tell him my story.
Everyone has a story to tell.
While he was leaving I stood up and shook his hand.
It was not because his story was great but because he lit my
soul with positive energy.
He forgot to sell me books.
But he did give me a leaf from the book of life. For free.
END