Precious Pearls

That’s not the way but can’t help it…this is the refrain I am used to hearing. Before wondering who keeps sounding me this, let me clarify right away; this is what I tell myself umpteen times! Agreed everyone knows what fair and what’s not but we have to often ‘adjust’ a bit. Every time when I find it a bit difficult to follow a fixed set of principles, I let go. Probably, that’s the best thing I can do. I was unmindful of it till yesterday. I was supposed to catch up with a professional at a coffee house and I was getting late. And here I was trying to find a parking slot. Finally I could locate a relatively empty space, the best possible for my bike. As I went near, I saw a cycle parked in between two-wheelers. I moved the cycle to make room for my bike. When I relocated the cycle to a nearby place, I observed its stand was too weak to make it stand! On seeing the person I was supposed to meet, I left the cycle to its fate. Somehow I wasn’t able to focus during the meeting. ...

Can driving on crowed roads be ever pleasurable? It would drive me to my wit’s end but I have gradually learnt to enjoy it. I am careful about using the right expression. ‘Gradually’ holds significance; it cannot become pleasurable at once. The 15-km drive from home to office isn’t something I look forward to. At night, when roads are relatively clear, those 15 kilometers appear like 5 km and during a mad rush, they are like, what, 50 km! When I couldn’t enjoy the drive, it seemed a never-ending journey. Today, hardly do I realise how time passes. I wonder what has made me find peace on the road amid no chances of traffic getting thinner. A major hurdle during the voyage (!) was the road that has several central and state government offices and more importantly the collectorate. Rallies, processions and morchas not only block the road but lead to chaos. What once used to be something that caused stress has now turned out be a stress buster. While commuters have to drive a ha...

Lull before the storm… One evening, a close friend called me to inform that her husband had died of heart attack. Too shocked, I didn’t know how to react. A couple of days ago I was talking to the couple and everything seemed fine. A healthy man in early 30s, how can he die? I rushed to her place. She was inconsolable. While it took her almost a month to come to terms, she was getting worried about her and her little son’s future. It was so unforeseen that she was too unprepared to handle the situation. What made me think was a sentence she kept repeating: ‘All was well till he had a heart attack….’. Is everything really well till a bolt from the blue strikes? Do catastrophes come unheralded? Do certain difficulties give us signals before they actually arrive? Here the man had died of heart attack. When I asked her about his lifestyle, I understood that the trouble was somewhat invited. When the reality finally sunk in, she too agreed that there had been indications. Excessive...

Is this real me? I ask myself at times and I am sure everybody does. Some of our rowdy avatars bother us. I particularly observed this the other day. If you otherwise ask me, am I capable of creating a scene in public? I would say I generally avoid it. Which wise person wouldn’t? In a fit of rage, I did…thanks to my encounter with a disabled beggar who came rolling on a small wooden platform with wheels. I neither encourage begging nor oblige a beggar. However, I’ve no issues if they don’t create nuisance in traffic. I would see this beggar everyday on my way to office. That day, he landed before me and I had a narrow escape from meeting an accident. I had heard and seen this beggar’s tale from many. It was my first-hand experience. He just refused to move unless I paid him. I didn’t have change. I lost my cool when the beggar refused to move. I decided not to move till he did. It being a road with heavy traffic, vehicles started honking. Brazen (I don’t like to call him this way ...