The immense value of the little kindnesses

People we meet for a brief moment can make indelible impressions. We might forget people we meet at dinners, and those who impress us at office meetings. But we never forget people who touch our heart - even for an instant. 

Every time I buy bananas I think of the poor banana-seller, making money from the few bananas from his cart, refusing to take the bunch back because I had forgotten my purse. I often remember with deep gratitude the man on the scooter who stopped just to stay with me and a failed car on the deserted road till I got picked up. I think fondly of the painter outside who offered to put up my curtains because he saw me struggling with them through the window. These simple acts are the weight that keeps the world running. These deeds not only ensure heaven to these genuine humans, but also make earth heaven for us. 

Men, and women, like this are why the horrors around us are not more prevalent than they are. The injustices and crimes that are being committed are only because this part of our humanity is relegated to the background. Labeled 'unimportant' because they are not economically rich, considered 'weak' because their work requires hard work, stamped 'failures' because they do not market their actual value, these are the people who teach us right living simply by being who they are.

Not that there are no heroes among the rich and successful, but it is easier to be kind from a position of comfort.

The banana seller taught me that real generosity is not defined by our means. The scooter guy taught me that chivalry is unselfish, caring, brave, non-interfering. The painter showed me how offering help is authentic, natural, brave and spontaneous.

Sometimes we are put in a certain place so we can be there for someone. It does not cost us anything, except the courage to listen to the voice that nudges us to reach out. Don’t silence that voice.

I am so grateful to those wonderful men who didn’t.

Differences to love

The strange thing about humanity is not that we are the same, but that every one is different. We may be made of the same material, but that is where the commonality stops. The wonderful thing is that we come across all sorts of people, and there is no limit to the amazing new people you can meet, know and love. But it seems unreasonable to me that we expect to find people just like us. It is just not possible for we are born at different times, or in different places, or in different situations. We grow in our own unique ecosystems, and even those in one family learn to think and react differently. Siblings even have different memories – and certainly different takeaways – of shared times!

So how can we expect someone to have the same sensibility or disposition as ours? And how puerile to be annoyed because they do not.

It is absurd to dislike someone else for a contrary attitude or opinion. After all, it is not only theirs to own, but unavoidably, inevitably theirs alone. We do not have to like or even understand their perspective, but as mature, smart, sophisticated humans we must accept it as rightfully theirs. Now, if we cannot live with it, we move on. We must take leave of a person with thoughts or sentiments that are toxic to our life philosophy. But a contradictory sentiment, even if wrong, is as valid to them as ours is to us. The only time they lose the right to that opinion is when they use it to hurt. Because then that is a criminal act. I believe enforcing a viewpoint onto anyone else is an act of violence.

We can never call ourselves civilized or advanced until we learn to not only accept, but respect, our differences. When we can acknowledge that what we think may not actually be right. When we are strong enough to change our stance to make way for newer, more encompassing, more kind pathways to comprehensive growth.

We are one certainly together on this blue dot, making our own better, and our own worse. But  we must acknowledge that our oneness  is defined and beautified by the differences that mark each one as one of a kind.

Guilt or Gratitude?

My insta-drabble: 

Why do we not feel guilty when we order a fancy drink?

There are those struggling for clean water.

Why do we not feel sick when we go for a quiet walk?

There are those who are incarcerated unjustly.

Why do we not feel ashamed of that expensive hat?

There are those who wait in hope for clean socks.

The Amazon burns, refugees freeze, children are terrorized,

and greed rules as the Earth cries ineradicable tears.

And we are happy just because for a time, we, the few, feel blessed?

And so my own drabble got me thinking. At what stage does gratitude become self-serving?

Most of us are thankful for whatever good we get. ( Those who don’t acknowledge the good in their lives actually do not have it, because there isn’t any if they can’t see any). Some of us are grateful for the everyday plebeian blessings. Others, only when extraordinary good fortune comes their way.

I am always joyful swimming in my gorgeous pool, but it makes me think  of those who walk miles for water. It makes me think of cities that are running dry. Human suffering saddens me. Political inertia and general societal lethargy infuriates me.  But that does not stop me from relishing what I have. So is the gratefulness that I feel justified? Or is it my way of counteracting guilt?  

What we must be very careful with is understanding that we must not feel entitled to the blessings we have.That in acknowledging them and being thankful for them, we are not absolving ourselves of the responsibility that comes with being better-off. We must remember that it falls on us to ensure that others also have the opportunity to partake of what they want, and definitely of that which they need.

So, every time we have that fancy dinner, let’s take out a bit for a food bank; every time we buy a set of clothes, let us at least donate a few of our old ones. And if we can do nothing to free those enslaved literally and figuratively, let us at least be kind to those who we deem different.

The crux of what I am trying to put across is that there should be no guilt associated with any blessings we have been given or have earned.  However, we cannot be considered grateful unless we share, in how much ever a small way, our capabilities. That we give, if not of our money and time, of our heart and wishes.

A lot of things need to fall into place for anything of joy and beauty to come into our lives. We too need to try and be one of those who facilitate joy and peace in someone else’s life. Our blessings may be numerous, but none are as important as the ability to be of use to another. 

Drabbling

Two ducks

We learn something from everything we see.

Like the two ducks.

They flew in, and simply settled down. No ripples, no carry-ons, no takeaways. The world around them goes on, undisturbed. They swim in circles, seemingly pointlessly. But what do we know? They teach me about true delight. Letting things be, enjoying the now.
I am grateful. For this moment, this learning, this home. A home that ripped apart an ecosystem to be. To watch ducks make a home in an ecosystem that already is.
I see two ducks being themselves. And winning. Every day.

Many worlds

How do they say it is ‘one world’? My world is not the same as yours.

The sea, the land, the air; each is its own world.

The starving girl in the refugee camp has a different world from the rich heiress walking into the restaurant tonight.

My pain colors my bubble, your ambition might color yours.

She buries herself in a book to escape, he drinks to forget. Her heart defines her world, his mind delineates his. So many kinds of happy. Many more kinds of unhappy.

So many people, just as many worlds. My world is not the same as yours.

Good enough?

I accept that just because I am not bad, it is not that I am good. Good requires voice and deed.

If I have not hurt, it does not mean that I have helped. Being comfortable comes with the responsibility of not looking away when others are attacked.

If I am not inflicting harm, it is not that I am harmless. My silence on seeing injustice is a potent support for oppressors. My inaction and apathy are the very reason that the abuse continues.

Every time I say’ ‘that is wrong’ and do nothing, I am doing wrong.

The precious stranger

We owe a thank you to so many strangers. Have you stopped to think?

The guy who opened the door and made you feel valued. The barista who made a little extra effort and made you feel special. The man on the scooter who stopped to wait with you because you were alone in a broken down car, and made you feel safe. The nurse who got that extra warm blanket, and made you comfortable. The ice cream maker who gave you that extra cup of the last batch and made happy. Is there someone who would want to thank you? Have you stopped to think?

The Twitter world

I am so lost in the bird-obsessed character-limiting world. My world is of words, of telling and explaining, of reading long sentences that are framed in beauty and thought.

 I am lost in this quick-read, quick-write, quick-publish world. My world is of savoring time, of listening to another, of considering my answer, of keeping kindness in mind as I say my mind.

I am hashtag- lost in this new world, but I admire it too. It has a beat, a spontaneity, a wholesomeness that speaks of unmasked life. Beauty and kindness can only follow truth.

The sea and me 

I sit on the sand where waves rush in. The warm water lulls my heart and refreshes my mind.
I sit where I see no one else is.
There are those rushing in, slashing the surfless waters.
There are others sitting on dry sand, solar-powering themselves.
The sea is enough for all. For those who dunk, or swim, or stand. For all differing needs that one sea is enough. Like love. Or fear.
I sit where no one is. Waiting for the sea to renew me with each coming wave.

On the highway

The road beckons. The mind works with foot and eyes balancing the need for speed with the imperative of safety, steadily working towards the destination.

 In this microcosm that is all its own, the vehicles are the only actors in the play. The gravel, the grass, the trees and clouds – all spectators of this solitary run by many.

I make a few friends. A blue corolla and a black jeep that move like me. There grows an unspoken bond as we drive in tandem against the others. ‘Goodbye, friend’, I feel a light loss as the corolla veers off to an exit with an imagined farewell.

Ode to Friendship

I spoke today with a friend. And my whole day has already brightened. I have not known her for long, and we do not even meet or chat as often as we like. But I know she is there for me, and I hope she believes that about me too. That got me thinking of friendship.

What elevates us from animals, for there are very few things in which we are above brute animals, is not technology, intellect, or silly things like cooking our food - it is our ability to foster long-term relationships of a very wide spectrum; of which friendship is the noblest and rarest.

It is often pointed out that though we cannot choose family, we do choose our friends. I believe we do not chose friends. They happen. You meet the person you need at that special point in your life.

That friend you grew up with who, even today, is as easy to be with as air. School friends reconnecting after years, and bonding even more deeply. The friends who suddenly come into your life to step in and help you rise from the ashes. The friends you make while chatting at a warehouse. The real friends you make on Facebook. The friends who live in the neighborhood of your new home. The friends who begin as co-workers and become a part of not only your life, but of who you are.

They are an inalienable part of, and the joy of, living my life.

So how would one describe friendship? It is knowing that the person in the other part of the equation values you as much as you value her or him. It is complete acceptance and understanding the core person; it is a comfort level that does not change with seasons of status and age, or with the vicissitudes of life and the distances it puts between friends at times. That is the most beautiful thing about friendship- distance and time do not matter. You pick up where you left off. Or not at all, and just start afresh.

Deep friendships require very little work, and it is the fortunate who have those. But friendship is essential in any relationship. You cannot be a good parent, child, sibling, spouse or coworker unless you are also friends.

I have many people I care for, in my family and outside, and can give them no greater compliment than that they are my friends.

“The language of friendship is not words but meanings.”

-Henry David Thoreau