As we crib about a few material things we are devoid of, we overlook a million others we were blessed with. What does it take to realise the actual worth of all that we have been gifted with?
I always believed the authorities up there, in the heaven, haven’t done justice to me. I always believed the bargain could have been a little more advantageous. I always believed I deserved slightly more than what I was destined with…until then.
One sunny afternoon, I was returning from my college after a heated discussion with my ex-programme coordinator on some official snags. A little pissed-off with the overall episode, we, a group of 3 dejected ex-students decided to stop somewhere in the middle of our way back home for fags and (cold) drinks.
Satbari (the place that holds our college) is still some miles away from the modern Delhi infrastructure. In a quick search for some Gumti (this is what they call a fag shop in local lingo), all we could find in that damned land was a modest establishment, roof-topped by cheap cellophane and manned by a kid in his puberty. “What on earth would we get here?” was my very first exclamation. But I guess my peers were a little too hopeful about that. As we went closer after parking the motorbikes, I took the inside view of the shop – cigarette packs, chips, biscuits etc. and to my comfort, a really big ice-trunk for cold drinks, all of it decoratively stuffed in that cubicle.
It was then when took a proper look at the one manning the shop. A swarthy, thin guy, not more than 19, handicapped with a leg and an arm. In some corner of my heart, I started feeling sorry for him. “Poor soul”, I thought within, “now he would call someone to help him serve us.” But I was taken aback. That freak, jumping on his one active leg, handed over the fags to my pals (you see, I don’t smoke). Next, I ordered for cold drinks. He limped again, towards the ice-trunk that was placed high above his head. “Now he would surely call someone. There is now way he can climb on to something and get the cold drinks out of that trunk all alone, while limping like this”, I murmured. And then…he did something really special.
While jumping on a foot, he reached up to the trunk, jumped over a set of bricks placed right beside it, opened the lid of the trunk from his head, took out two bottles of Sprite from his normal hand, held them tightly in his other (undersized) arm, and got back to us jumping again. In normal conditions, serving a cola drink would have been such a common assignment, but that was superbly marvelous.
Why on earth did I think, even for a moment that I wasn’t bestowed with the better things of life? That shoddy little salesman taught me the best lesson of my life through a shortest possible chapter. The goodness is not in getting the best things of the world and still craving for more. The real goodness is in enjoying what actually we have been destined with in fullest. I, being a normal, complete human being always made a hue-and-cry for lagging behind those who were, in some respect, better than me. And then I thought of him, who was cheated by the Almighty Himself both economically and physically, and was still striving against all odds to look after his family’s living.
I always believed I deserved slightly more than what I was destined with…until then.