A Place With A Strange Name. Yes Strange.

India is a vast country. I cannot generalize. Probably no one can. But the place where I have lived around 99.99% of my life is an elongated, but small, strip of land called Kerala, lacks in diversity.

It all has been so similar, the roads, the trees and the tall new buildings. It feels like the same place anywhere I go.

It all has been so bloody similar, each mind that I meet.

In the recent past, I had never bothered about people and their feelings. It is not that I did not want to, but I never realized that it is a part of life.

Everyone is so consumed with what they are and what they should be. It has never worried me that the world and its people are not concerned about anyone else, but it is the realization of this fact which started eating me. I am one among them, if this world is too materialistic and self centered, so am I.

At least, so I had been.

There are certain people, whom we would love to hate. There are certain incidents which we would love to forget. Most of the times, we can't do either. It is like sitting in the fireside on a February morning. We hate the thick smoke which merges into the air, and makes breathing so difficult. We hate the smoke, which breaks tears in our eyes. Yet, we love the very same smoke, for the warmth that it provides.

I faced, rather I had been a part of, such an incident in the recent past.

It happened in a place with a strange name, 'Tholppetti'. Strange, because it translates as 'leather box' in English. There people can take a jeep drive into the jungle and if you are lucky, you can spot wild animals. Riding on my luck there, was I, on a misty winter morning.

Underlining one of the strongest beliefs that I had throughout my life, that I have no luck, I spotted nothing. But this time, I was to be proven wrong with my belief.

As I stepped out of the jeep, I spotted a small tea shop nearby, and around ten customers waiting around it. One single person was serving them all. But surprisingly, this person had no dissatisfied customers, due to the wait time.

He was serving breakfast, tea, with or without milk, lemon juice and he was taking care of the accounts too, all alone. At the same time he was speaking to someone in Kannada, and to everyone else in Malayalam. He confessed that he does not know English very well, but knows French and German! And 4 other languages. I did not find any reason to disbelieve him, and I still don't find any.

This man was indeed busy. And he was good at multitasking. But so am I. I am trained to be so. Then what is the big deal?

The surprise came when he started to speak to a lady, who was washing dishes sitting nearby. She looked like a shadow and no one noticed her till that moment. He simply asked one question, 'Ammu, did you have your breakfast?' She said yes. Then came the second question, 'And the kids?'. 'They too' was the answer. He did not look at her while asking this, he did not take leave from what he was doing for even a single second. But the concern that he had, while asking this, was so beautiful and genuine.

This was so alien to me. Taking care of a person? I was not good enough.

Words are so insufficient. Or I am not good enough to write too.

I am not even half busy as he is. I don't have to serve so many customers at the same time. I just have to serve my boss. Still, I never find time to be concerned for anyone close to me.

I repeat, Words are so insufficient. Or I am not good enough to write.

Being taken care of is such a mist of hot white air. You name it as weakness, you name it as momentary lapse of reason or anything else. I love it for its warmth. And it is merging into me.

Foot note:

Thousands of years ago, two great sages of India, Narada and Vyasa, met each other on the banks of the river Sarasvati. After talking to Narada, Vyasa accepted that seeking knowledge alone is not sufficient, but we have to have love, concern and devotion in life.

Narada said this to Vyasa,

'Having known that (true devotion or love), one becomes intoxicated, silent and celebrates with the self.'

Intoxicated? I am now.