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| 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
