May I help you?

Picture Source: amazonaws.com

Stage 1: An Understanding

“India needs six runs of the last ball to win this thriller of a match. Sachin, who is on strike, has not been in the best of his form lately; Glen McGrath, the one who gets to deliver the last ball, is”, Tony Graig exclaimed.   

Sachin tightened his grip over his MRF bat, even as the bowler started his run-up. After letting the ball leave his hand, McGrath looked up immediately to see if the ball did what he wanted it to do.

He wanted to know if he had just pulled off a perfect slower ball.

The trick about a slower ball is that, usually a batsman identifies it only after playing the shot, by which time it would have already done the damage. Moreover, when a batsman is in pressure, it is one of the most fatal deliveries to trick him into making a costly mistake. McGrath made no mistake in his calculations. It was a perfect occasion for a perfect slower ball. After leaving the ball, all he could was to hope that the batsman would fall for the trick, but in vain.     

The minute the ball left McGrath’s hand, Sachin knew what he was about to face. He let a smile escape his face. Sachin went on the front foot and slammed the ball over the covers all the way to the Six.

That day during the post match celebrations, a thirteen year old kid jumped over the fences; reached for Sachin and asked for an autograph on his bat. Sachin complied.

***

Maruti’s dream met an abrupt end when his mother yelled at him, ‘Wake up. Its 8 AM already’.

He woke up in a shock; disappointed to be back in reality.

His mother who was wiping the floor with a wet cloth urged him to get ready and finish his breakfast. 

He went to the restroom by jumping across the corners which were not wet.

***

 ‘Listen, how much will a new bat cost?’ she asked her husband who was getting ready for work.

‘A Cricket bat?’

‘Yes, I think Maruti needs a new bat. The bat with which he has been playing has a broken handle’

‘Have you gone bonkers? He scored 65 in his Math test; I think he shouldn’t be allowed to play 

cricket in the first place. What he needs is a Math Tuition!’ he replied.

‘He is only a kid. And he is crazy about cricket. This is his time. Let him have it’, she pleaded.

‘Since when has he been asking you to have this conversation with me?’ he continued.

‘Actually he never did. In fact, he didn’t even say to me that he needs a bat yet’, she replied making sure she was not loud enough to be heard by the boy.

‘Then why are we having this conversation? Maybe he doesn’t need the bat in the first place’

‘I know what he needs even before he asks me. It’s a mother’s thing, you won’t understand. Trust me’

‘You are spoiling him by giving him whatever he wants’, he said.

‘I am giving him what he needs; not what he wants’

‘Okay. Fine’, he said.

***

That afternoon Maruti walked into the kitchen silently and said, ‘Amma, can I ask you something?’

‘Yes’, his mother replied, even as she was cutting the vegetables.

‘You know that I have been collecting money in my piggy bank for quiet sometime now’, he said, showing her the clay pot which had a slot for dropping coins/folded notes in it.

‘I would like you to break it for me. I want to use the money to buy a bat’

‘Why do you want to buy a bat?’

‘My bat’s handle is broken. It hurts whenever I hit a six. And you know I always like to hit a Six’

‘I want the Sachin’s bat, the one with an MRF Sticker on it’, he said. He radiated a smile even as he said it.

His mother took the piggy bank from him and said ‘You know what, I have a better idea. What if I do not break your piggy bank and you could still buy a bat’

‘Promise me that you will work hard for your next Math test and I will give you the money to buy a bat’, she said producing a 500 rupee note from the sugar jar.

He smiled so broad that his lips seemed to almost bridge the distance between his ears.

‘I sure will. Thanks Amma’, he said as he took the Rs. 500 note.

‘Be careful with the money’, his Mother shouted even as he stormed out of the house for the store.

***

Stage 2: A Thanksgiving

Maruti came to a halt when he reached the end of the street. The store was on the other side of the road, and in order to reach there he had to cross one of the busiest roads in Mumbai: Kane Road, Bandra West.

Maruti did not know how to cross the road. He was terrified as he saw the speeding heavy vehicles rush past him. He looked around hoping that someone would help him cross the road. No help came. 

He then closed his eyes.

It was exactly 2 weeks back, when Maruti had to cross the road on his own for the first time. He was on his way to the school. His brother would always accompany him, but now that he had moved to a hostel, Maruti had no one to help him cross the road.

He had attempted to cross the road by taking a few steps but immediately retreated. The speeding vehicles terrified him. He looked around for help, but in vain. It was as if he was invisible to everyone, lost in the crowd of the adults.

Even as he was standing there helpless, he closed his eyes and started praying for help. His prayers were answered when he heard someone say: ‘May I help you?’

Maruti looked up to see the source of the sound. It was an elderly person, dressed in a safari suit.

‘Yes, Can you help me cross the road?’ the eleven year old kid asked him.

‘Okay. You know what! I will do something which is better than helping you cross the road! I will teach you how to cross the road’ he had said. This way, you won’t need any help next time you have to cross the road’

He held the boy’s hand and said, ‘first look at the left side, then at the right side and then again on the left side. If you see any vehicles coming, wait for them to leave. Remember to be patient, when a good time comes, cross the road.

They started walking, meticulously judging their every next-step. ‘The most important thing is not to panic’, the old man had said.

And before Maruti could realize, they were half way through: They had reached the Road Divider.

Maruti opened his eyes. His mind did a great job at recollecting every detail the old man had said that day. He obediently followed them and reached the Road Divider. The battle was already half won.  

He stood on the road divider and closed his eyes again. He felt his brain worked better when his eyes were closed.

When they reached the road divider, the elderly person said, ‘Ok now start by looking at the right side because the vehicles come from the right on this side of the road, then look at left and then again at right. Always remember if you see a vehicle coming you wait for it to go. You should start walking only when you are sure you can cross the road safely’

Maruti obeyed and took the lead this time. He decided when to start and when to stop walking across the road.

Maruti opened his eyes and followed his own leads to cross the road this time.

When he reached the other side of the road safely, he was elated. He looked back at the road with an air of a king looking back at the kingdom he had just conquered.

***

Maruti saw the old man, who had helped him cross the road a couple of weeks back, just a few shops away on the foot path.

Maruti wanted to articulate the good news that he was finally able to cross the road on his own. He followed him into a medical shop.

‘Why are you limping Mr. Sharma?’ the pharmacist asked.

‘Old age has its own perks’, he said and laughed. ‘I will get used to it’, he said.

Maruti, on hearing it, left the medical shop without talking to the old man.

He went to the sports shop which was a couple of stores way and placed the 500 Rupee note on the table.

The shopkeeper, Mr. Shah, knew exactly what this kid wanted to buy. The kid had been staring at the MRF bat for last couple of weeks through the window.  He took the MRF bat off the display and put it on the table.

‘I don’t want this. I want to buy that’, he said pointing at the walking stick.

‘What! Are you sure?’ Mr. Shah asked.

‘Yes’, he said pushing the bat away.

Mr. Shah obeyed.

Startled as he was, Mr. Shah followed the kid out of the store to see what he planned to do with the walking stick.

The kid walked up to the limping old man.

‘May I help you?’, he called out loud, returning the old man’s kind words.

Old man looked behind.

‘I was able to cross the road today without anyone’s help for the first time’, Maruti declared.

‘Thanks for teaching me’ 

‘You are welcome kid’, he said with a heartfelt smile.

‘Consider this as a thanksgiving’, Maruti said giving the walking stick to him.

The old man, who was floored by the kid’s empathy, accepted it without speaking a word.  

‘Why did you get this for me?’ he had put in extra efforts to produce the words.

‘I always wanted to buy a bat. Today my Mother gave me a gift; she gave me the money to buy a bat.

But when I went inside the shop I remembered something which she had said a long time back: The best way to use a gift is to give it to someone who needs it more than you do’

‘I figured you need a walking stick more than I ever needed a bat’, he smiled.

***

Mr. Shah, who had been eavesdropping over the conversation, thought in amazement, ‘The kid sacrificed his temptations only to help an old person he barely knew! Either the kid is naively innocent or he is absolutely stupid’

‘You need to realize that, nowadays, being nice is considered being weak. Kindness won’t help you get anywhere. I am not asking you to be absolutely selfish, but don’t be absolutely selfless either. You have to help yourself first, and then think of the others’; his father had said when he gave him the responsibility of the shop.

Mr. Shah completely believed in what his father had said.

‘It’s a bad world out there kid, you got to start thinking with your mind, not with your heart’

***

Stage 3: A Reckoning

Location: Platform-4; Dadar Station,
Time: 1800 hours

Mr. Sharma was sitting on one of the benches on the platform, waiting for his train.

He was still pondering over what had happened that afternoon. He couldn’t stop thinking about the boy.

His mind had rejected the gift from the boy, the minute he gave it to him. But his heart refused to obey.  The earnest token of gratitude of the kid was too valuable to refuse.

The boy’s words: “The best way to use a gift is to give it to someone who needs it more than you do”, were still resonating in him.

A young man who was in his late 20’s was sitting beside Mr. Sharma on the bench.

There was an announcement which said the train they had been waiting would be delayed by 15 minutes.

‘Fuck you!’ he shouted in frustration.

Mr. Sharma looked at him and smiled.

‘Hi, I am Praful Sharma’, he said looking at the young man.

‘Good for you’, came the reply.

‘Okay’, Mr. Sharma said, not making another attempt to start a conversation.

After a couple of minutes of awkward silence the young man spoke.

‘Uncle, I am sorry. It’s just not been a good day for me’, he confessed.

‘What happened’, he asked.

‘I don’t know where to start’, he started.

‘I…I hate my job…I..I don’t know what I am doing with my life. It’s all so chaotic. It suddenly feels like I am not the one who is controlling my life anymore’

‘My Manager feels I am not doing my job well. I am not doing my job well, because I do not like what I do’, he said.

‘I can never be successful’, he continued.

‘Then quit the job’, suggested Mr. Sharma.

‘I have a family to take care. I just can’t quit my job’, he said as if it was not an option worth considering. 

‘I mean, quit this job and do what you are good at. Follow your passion. If you like what you do, you wouldn’t have to work a single day’, he said.

‘Oh please! Spare me the stereotypical nonsense’, he started.

‘When I was in my college, I was an artist; a freehand painter’.

My friends and teacher always said, ‘You are born to be an artist. Follow your passion…and blah’

‘And I took them seriously. After I graduated, I worked for 2 years on my paintings and had an auction’, he paused.

He produced a large book from his office bag. He opened it and showed his sketches to Mr. Sharma.

The first sketch in the book showed a man’s face; the left half of which was crying and the right half was smiling.

‘This is absolutely beautiful’, Mr. Sharma said.

Similarly he checked all his sketches and was utterly impressed by his skill.

‘What happened at the auction?’ Mr. Sharma asked.

‘Can you guess how many paintings of mine I sold through that auction? Zero. Everyone says my paintings are great but no one is willing to pay for them’, he said with a depressing voice.

‘Passion is an illusion. It’s only a myth. Following my passion was the biggest mistake I ever made’

Mr. Sharma didn’t speak. He wanted to choose his words carefully. After a couple of minutes he broke the silence.

‘You know, you are right. These sketches are indeed beautiful, but I wouldn’t buy these’, Mr. Sharma said.

'What?'                                                                                                                                 

‘Yes. See, I am a person who works 9 hours a day. I have my own set of problems. Why would I want to buy a good sketch of a half crying person’

‘Where are you going with this?’ he asked.

‘Look, people won’t buy paintings which are beautiful; they buy paintings which they can relate to’

‘I am not good at judging art, but I feel you can relate to these paintings because you drew them. I, as a novice, have no time to spend on the intricate details of what it means’

‘I find this painting depressingly beautiful but I wouldn’t buy it because it is…depressing, to start with’

‘As a customer, I will buy a painting which talks my language; which lives my life. I would buy a painting which is made for me, not the painting which is made for you’, Mr. Sharma said.

The young man looked confused.

‘As an artist, you sketch things which you like; but as a Business man you should sketch things which your customer will like’, he said.

‘I am just trying to plant a seed of hope. You can either choose to be successful at what you like or witness yourself become a failure at what you hate. It’s your choice’

‘My train is here, I have to go’, Mr. Sharma said, leaving a thoughtful person behind.

***

Stage 4: An Expression

Arjun suddenly looked up and noticed that he had been sitting on that bench for half an hour pondering over the conversation with the old man.

His words: “As an artist, you sketch things which you like; but as a Business man you should sketch things which your customer will like”, were still resonating in him.

‘Draw something which the customer will like’, he said to himself.

‘Will it work? Is it worth a try?’ he thought.

There was only way to find out.

***

He started observing the people walking on the platform. He picked a person as a target and approached him.

‘Excuse me sir’, he said. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’

‘What is this about?’

‘Sir, my name is Arjun. I am a freelance painter. I would like to …’, Arjun started.

‘Sorry, we have a test in one hour. We are a little occupied with the preparation. Please excuse us’

Sir, the next train on this platform would arrive only after 15 minutes. Just hear me out. I won’t take more than a minute’, he started.

‘You guys can wait here just the way you normally do. I will draw a sketch for you in the next 15 minutes. You can take a look at my work at the end of 15 minutes and pay only if you like it.

‘Look, please we are genuinely not..’, he started when the girl interrupted him.

‘It sounds pretty interesting. Let’s try it out’, said the girl who was accompanying him.

Arjun hadn’t noticed the girl before; nevertheless he thanked her for showing interest.

The boy looked at her with disagreement.

‘Let’s give him a chance. We can discuss while we are waiting for the train just like we usually do, he will draw a sketch without disturbing us. If we like it, we buy it. What are we losing in this?’ she said.

‘Okay fine. We will buy your painting only if we like it. And in case we decided to buy it, we will pay you whatever we think your sketch deserves. If we do not like it, we just walk away’, he repeated the rules.

‘That would be great Sir. Thanks a lot Sir...and Mam’, he said.

While Arjun was digging his bag to find a pencil, the boy asked, ‘What are you going to draw, anyways?’

‘I am not sure, Sir’, he said sounding confused.

‘You could draw us?’ the girl asked or rather suggested.

‘Uhh..sure Mam. I could do that’, he said mentally thanking her for her suggestion.

Arjun then walked away from them, parked himself and started observing them even as they slipped into a conversation.

With a blank sheet of canvas on his lap, a pencil in his left hand, Arjun ventured to convert two strangers he had just met on the railway platform into potential customers. 

He had 10 minutes to color the canvas and impress them. He observed major facial features of the boy and girl and started the sketch.

He made sure he put in his best strokes to make his sketch visually appealing.

At the end of 5 minutes he had the basic sketch ready. Two people talking to each other amidst a crowd of millions. The sketch looked complete, barring the finishing touches.

He looked at his work with cynicism, ‘This is a great picture alright. But it is only depicting what they are. I mean, it’s just like a photograph. Why would they buy it?’

He knew there was something missing. He looked at them again.

‘Observe for the things which are not obvious’

The boy, who was dressed in a checked shirt and denim, carried a bag which suggested that he was a college student. His hands were in constant and random motion suggesting that he was probably trying to explain something to the girl. The girl was dressed in an old and a not-so-well-kept Salwar kammez which suggested that she was not the kind of person who would care to look beautiful. The frameless glasses gave her a nerdy look. She had long hair which was neatly tied. However, there was charm in her face which was difficult to ignore.

The train was just 4 minutes away now. Arjun needed to act fast. He continued observing them.

From the way they conversed, he could gather that they were fairly comfortable in each other’s company. They were standing at an oddly large distance and were constantly avoiding eye contact with each other. In spite of the high comfort level which they seemed to have had, there was some weird awkwardness between them.

In the middle of their conversation the girl let a smile escape her face, and that made the guy fumble. He looked at her with an air of a person looking at Taj Mahal for the first time.

‘He likes her!’

Arjun got what he needed from the guy. He now focused his attention on the girl.

She was not letting anything out.

‘Girls are much better at hiding their feelings’, he thought.

The train, which was now far in sight, would reach the station in 3 minutes.

Random thoughts started floating in his minds.

‘You could draw us?’ …. ‘People buy paintings which they like’

He wanted the random thoughts to end. He wanted to focus on the sketch.

He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. A realization dawned upon him.

‘Oh my God! She likes him too’

The thoughts were not random after-all; his brain was connecting the dots.

'People buy paintings which they like’…‘You could draw us?’

She wanted both of them to be in the painting. She liked being with him. She obviously liked him.

The high comfort levels represented their friendship and the brewing awkwardness represented the love they had for each other. And the way they avoided eye contact with each other, it was evident that neither of them had the courage to express their feelings.

There was still one minute left for the train to arrive at the station.

He made one small addition to his sketch before showing it to them.

***

‘It’s beautiful’, she exclaimed.

‘Show it to me’, the boy asked.

‘It is great but… you made a small mistake; I don’t have a diamond ring on my index…’, she ended the sentence abruptly after realizing what it meant. She looked confused.

The boy took the sketch and noticed what she was hinting at.

An awkward silence followed.

‘Is it true?’ she asked him.

‘Yes’, he confessed.

He rolled up the train ticket, went on his knees and extended his hand.

‘Roshni Mehta, I have been in love with you for 2 years. I like us more than I have ever liked me. I am always yours, will you be mine forever?’

She nodded in agreement.

‘What took you so long?’ she said even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

‘I didn’t want to risk our friendship’

He took her hand and tied the rolled up train ticket around her index finger signifying the start of their journey together.

None of the three people noticed the train come and leave.

That day, Roshni discovered love in her friendship and Arjun rediscovered his passion as an artist.

***

Stage 5: An Enlightenment

Mr. Shah closed his shop early and rushed to the hospital.  He had received a call saying that his wife’s water broke and she was in labor. She had been admitted in the hospital.

‘How can this happen? The scheduled delivery date was not until next month’ he thought even as he called for a cab.

He rushed to the receptionist and fumbled, ‘My…. wife was admitted… in this hospital. She is… pregnant’, he said trying to catch his breath.

‘She is in OT-1; Second floor, fourth room on your right…’

He rushed away before she could complete her narration.

‘What happened? How is my wife?’, he asked as soon as he reached the hospital.

‘She is being operated upon. It seems to be a case of premature birth.  We are still not sure though. 

We will need some more time’, the nurse said.

‘Premature birth? That sounds dangerous, doesn’t it?’  He said sounding tensed.

‘It’s not as dangerous as it sounds. Believe me’, the nurse said.

‘God, please show us some light in this time of darkness’, he prayed.

***

‘Congratulations it’s a girl. Both the mother and the child are safe. You can see them after 10 minutes’ said the doctor who came out of Operation theatre.

‘Thank you, Doctor’, he said with a sigh of relief.

‘You should also be thanking the person who brought her to the hospital on time. Had she arrived a little late it would have proved fatal for both the mother and the child’, he continued.

‘Who is the person who got my wife admitted?’ he asked the nurse.

‘They were two college students, actually. They had to leave early because they apparently had an important exam today’

‘I can check the name in the admit form and let you know in some time’

***

When he went in, he looked at his wife and said. ‘I am sorry; I was not there with you’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘I am feeling fine’

Mr. Shah looked at the baby in the cradle.

‘She is beautiful. She has your eyes’, he smiled.

‘The people who got me admitted, are they still here? I wanted to thank them’, she said.

‘I am afraid; they had to leave before I arrived’

‘I wish I could thank them’, she said.

‘It just feels good when someone you barely know makes so much effort to help you’, she said.

His wife’s words reminded Mr. Shah of something.

‘You remember we decided that if it’s a boy, I will get to name him; and if it’s a girl, you will get to name her’, his wife said. 

Mr. Shah walked up to the baby, picked her up for the first time. He tried to be as gentle as he could.

‘So did you think of any name for her?’ she asked.

‘It's Roshni', he heard a familiar voice say.

He turned to look at the source. The nurse had just entered the room.

'The girl who got your wife admitted, her name is Roshni. The boy’s name is not mentioned in the form’

‘Thank you’

‘Roshni. God has, indeed, showed us light in the darkness’, he thought

‘I think I have a name in mind’, Mr. Shah smiled at his wife.

***

His wife’s words: “It just feels good when someone you barely know makes so much effort to help you”, were still resonating in Mr. Shah’s mind.

It reminded him of the boy who had helped the old man earlier that day and how he had thought that it was an act of foolishness. He needed to set something right.  

‘Where are you going?’ his wife asked him.

‘I need to say thank you to someone’, he said before leaving.

***

Maruti heard a knock on his door that night. When he opened the door, he saw a bat and a letter.

He took the bat in excitement and gave the letter to his mom.

The letter read:

“I couldn’t get an opportunity to thank the people who brought light into my life today. I would like to thank you instead for bringing up your kid the way you did. The values which you have imparted to your son are the values which the world needs the most right now.

I believe that receiving help from a random stranger is the second best feeling anyone can experience. The best one is being fortunate enough to be that random person who helps.

Today, some strangers on the train brought light in my life. I hope this bat brings light into your son’s life.

P.S:  I got this bat autographed by Sachin himself, when I was thirteen years old. It has been very precious to me ever since. Now I think it’s time to pass on this legacy to your son”

An art, by
Shashank