Yesterday D & me were driving back to Ottapalam after a trip to visit family in Guruvayur. It was about three in the afternoon and the weather was unusually hot for a late December afternoon. That or I was simply spoilt by the weather in Bangalore. D was driving and I was just staring vacantly at the road. A few kilometers before Ottapalam we spotted a man walking along the side of the highway. The only reason we paid him any attention was the manner of his walk. His head was somewhat hunched and he was just limping along. Even at a distance, and despite the fact that we were cruising along, it was evident that it was a troubled and painful walk. D, being D, pulled the car over to the side and asked me to check on the man and to determine if we could give him a lift. I have to admit, at that very moment, my head scrambled to find a reason for not stopping to talk to that man - he could be drunk, he could be a thief, a scamster etc. Any number of reasons to convince myself that I ought not to react to that scene. Nevertheless I walked up to him.
He was wearing a pant and a shirt, had a bag on his shoulder and was probably seventy years or so. He was sweating profusely in the afternoon heat and as I got closer it was evident that he had suffered from a stroke. One half of his body was almost paralysed and he couldn't even look up at me properly. I asked him where he was headed and he said it was to a nearby market and it was to repair a torch he had purchased recently. I asked him if we could drop him off at the market. He quietly agreed and with some difficulty managed to get into the car. A few minutes later we were at the market. I got off the car to help him out. He struggled again to get out of the car. He then shook my hand and told me (in Malayalam) that he hoped that he hadn't put us through too much trouble. I told him that it was no trouble and asked him why he was attempting to walk in his condition instead of taking an auto. His response was jumbled but I gathered that he didn't have enough money. I think it was then than the dam gates opened. Struggling to hold it together I mumbled something incoherently, stuffed some money in his hand, asked him to get an auto back and jumped back into the car. And wept. D couldn't hold herself back either.
Later, as I pondered over the meltdown I realised that I had not witnessed a unique one off tragedy. Every day I come across instances like this, people or even animals in need. And yet, almost every time I convince myself that there is a reason I shouldn't react. I am numb to such things. At best I would feel bad but I would do nothing about it. Although I never stated it explicitly, implicitly I accepted that such things happen and that it wasn't my place to try and make a difference. D reacts to these situations differently.She never over thinks anything, but just reacts from the gut. In the two years I have known her, she has bought home a puppy that followed her on the road, scooped a half dead pigeon from the road and allowed it to die a dignified death on our balcony, saved a hawk fledgling from the crows, adopted a four year old Great Dane, run around a street, bun in hand, trying to keep an injured dog distracted until help arrived, distributed excess balloons from a party to every kid she met on the road, bought McD burgers for two kids that were on the other side of the restaurant window and yes, it was her idea to stop the car yesterday as well. In almost all these instances I have, at a minimum, feebly protested at whatever she was trying to do. D is a tough cookie on the road and is quick to cut down the offending driver that crosses her path. But unlike me she isn't numb to the suffering she sees. Even better, she actively reacts vs. passively sympathising.
I've read that situations are presented in our lives so that we have an opportunity to react. So that we can come up with our best and brightest response to that situation and in doing so define who we are and what we stand for. Sadly, over time, and especially as adults we become conditioned to accept situations we would have never accepted as kids. Slowly the kindness and generosity is bled out from us and replaced with doubt and selfishness. We walk away from that sick and struggling stranger on the road, we walk away from the injured dog with the broken leg on the roadside, slowly and surely we walk away from being human.
As I ponder over a year that has gone by and reset my goals for the year that is to come, I raise a silent toast to the D's that still exist in our midst. She isn't the only one I know, and while they seem to be few and far in between, they do exist...the ones that remind me of what it really means to be human. And I promise myself not to be numb, not to conveniently walk away...but instead to offer my highest response to every moment and every situation.
To being human. Cheers!
He was wearing a pant and a shirt, had a bag on his shoulder and was probably seventy years or so. He was sweating profusely in the afternoon heat and as I got closer it was evident that he had suffered from a stroke. One half of his body was almost paralysed and he couldn't even look up at me properly. I asked him where he was headed and he said it was to a nearby market and it was to repair a torch he had purchased recently. I asked him if we could drop him off at the market. He quietly agreed and with some difficulty managed to get into the car. A few minutes later we were at the market. I got off the car to help him out. He struggled again to get out of the car. He then shook my hand and told me (in Malayalam) that he hoped that he hadn't put us through too much trouble. I told him that it was no trouble and asked him why he was attempting to walk in his condition instead of taking an auto. His response was jumbled but I gathered that he didn't have enough money. I think it was then than the dam gates opened. Struggling to hold it together I mumbled something incoherently, stuffed some money in his hand, asked him to get an auto back and jumped back into the car. And wept. D couldn't hold herself back either.
Later, as I pondered over the meltdown I realised that I had not witnessed a unique one off tragedy. Every day I come across instances like this, people or even animals in need. And yet, almost every time I convince myself that there is a reason I shouldn't react. I am numb to such things. At best I would feel bad but I would do nothing about it. Although I never stated it explicitly, implicitly I accepted that such things happen and that it wasn't my place to try and make a difference. D reacts to these situations differently.She never over thinks anything, but just reacts from the gut. In the two years I have known her, she has bought home a puppy that followed her on the road, scooped a half dead pigeon from the road and allowed it to die a dignified death on our balcony, saved a hawk fledgling from the crows, adopted a four year old Great Dane, run around a street, bun in hand, trying to keep an injured dog distracted until help arrived, distributed excess balloons from a party to every kid she met on the road, bought McD burgers for two kids that were on the other side of the restaurant window and yes, it was her idea to stop the car yesterday as well. In almost all these instances I have, at a minimum, feebly protested at whatever she was trying to do. D is a tough cookie on the road and is quick to cut down the offending driver that crosses her path. But unlike me she isn't numb to the suffering she sees. Even better, she actively reacts vs. passively sympathising.
I've read that situations are presented in our lives so that we have an opportunity to react. So that we can come up with our best and brightest response to that situation and in doing so define who we are and what we stand for. Sadly, over time, and especially as adults we become conditioned to accept situations we would have never accepted as kids. Slowly the kindness and generosity is bled out from us and replaced with doubt and selfishness. We walk away from that sick and struggling stranger on the road, we walk away from the injured dog with the broken leg on the roadside, slowly and surely we walk away from being human.
As I ponder over a year that has gone by and reset my goals for the year that is to come, I raise a silent toast to the D's that still exist in our midst. She isn't the only one I know, and while they seem to be few and far in between, they do exist...the ones that remind me of what it really means to be human. And I promise myself not to be numb, not to conveniently walk away...but instead to offer my highest response to every moment and every situation.
To being human. Cheers!
4 comments:
I am sure there are many, many more such deeds which you two have done , that you have not mentioned in your blog. Some move you to tears, others equally selfless and magnanimous and profound may have become so much part of your lives that you dont consider them extraordinary any more!
Keep posting, it's nice to pause and reflect on life which seems to be just whizzing past.
Your instant reaction in recognising the situation and helping the needy, be it human being or animal is heart whelming.good show guys. Happy new year.
Very nice reflection of the kind heart and the reaction that D and you have been going through. Keep it up and God bless you!
You have a good one, my friend...thanks for sharing.
Also - how about posting more than once per year?
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