No one knows where she came from; No one knows, why she chose that place; No one knows, what her story is. Yet, she taught me, my life’s most profound lesson. And this 46th story in my album of 100 true stories and my inspirations, is a story of that lesson. Late last year, I bought a new house. God knows, how proud I felt of myself. There is a lane, opposite that house. This lane leads to one of city’s busiest main roads. And in that lane, this lady sits. Sits she does – all days, all nights, all months, all through the year. Every morning, I drive past her, she says ‘Baabu, zara tea konivandi’ It was my Mom who first brought my attention, to this old lady. ‘You drink as much tea, as that old lady in the lane does’, she said. ‘Which old lady?’, I asked. ‘There is one sitting opposite our house. Looks like she is abandoned by her sons. Poor soul, she has no one left. She just sits in the hot sun all day, and sleeps on the road. I try to serve her with whatever I can, but she only asks for tea. I presume she is mentally challenged’, said my Mom. ‘But why does she ask only for tea?’, I asked. ‘How would I know? May be you should ask her. You are the one, who people think builds business models to help others. May be you should do something to help her’, my Mom said. I felt flattered and challenged at the same time. ‘May be I will. Let me talk to her’, I said. The next morning, as I returned from training my friends in GMAT, I sat next to her in the road. ‘Namaste Amma’, I said. She looked at me disinterested. The sweepers on the road, wondered why I got down my scooty and why I was talking to her. ‘Yendaga undha (Is the Sun beating down on you?)’, I asked. ‘Baabu, zara tea konivandi’, she said. (Son, please buy me some tea) ‘Tea vaddhu. Mundhu yemaina thinandi’, I said opening the pack of idlis I bought for her. ‘Baabu, zara tea konivandi’, she insisted. ‘I will get you some tea. But please have the breakfast’, I said. It was then her reply startled me. ‘Baabu, if I have hard-food, then I have to go to the washroom. There is no place to go, but here. But then, this is also the place I sleep. So, I avoid as much food as possible and just have tea. Please buy me some tea’, she said. Her reply broke me, for a strange reason. Here I was, trained for a complete year, in one of India’s best b-schools. Yet, I failed to see the simple perspective and life-problem of that old woman. ‘I need to build a small public washroom here. And make her the warden of it’, my mind thought. I smiled, resolving that to be my next step. I went to the nearest traffic police and asked him, whose permission would I need to build a public washroom in that lane. A few discussions and an hour later, I boiled down to the network I needed to tap into. I bought the old lady some tea, a pot to store water and a little umbrella to guard her later against the severe sun. It was an unforgettable expression, with which she consumed the tea. She blessed me and I moved on with the days, with a resolve to build a clean washroom, a few feet away from where she stays. And then one day, when I bought the old lady some tea again, the nearby sweeper said ‘Baabu gaaru, you are wasting your time. This old lady is crazy. She just screams for tea all day. There are rumors that her sons made her sit here. And that they come late in the night and take all the begged money away’, she said. ‘hmm. Thank you for updating me on the rumor. But why did you think, I am wasting my time?’, I asked. ‘Because you are helping an undeserved person’, the sweeper replied. And that set my mind thinking. ‘Do we really have to help only deserving persons. Is there an eligibility criterion to deserve help? What if the old lady is using my sympathy?’, I thought. I asked my conscience to guide me right. I looked at the old lady in her eyes and asked myself, does my service to her, need a warranty of trust, goodness and deserving? I remembered what my teacher once told me. ‘Assisting a deserving person, is help. Assisting an undeserved person is human service. Life thrives not just on help, but also on human service’, she had said. I was glad I found my answer. Later that morning, my Mom asked what I was doing with the old lady everyday. She had asked if I had found a way to make her life sustain on its own. I smiled at her. I came to my room, opened my diary and wrote thus: ‘Asya, till I met this old lady, I always believed that every problem will possess a business solution. I believed that Charity is always bad. That human service to the undeserving, is a non-sustainable solution. But then dear, there are problems in the world – that can be solved only by kindness. There are problems in the world – that can be solved only by Charity. There are problems in the world – that can only be solved by seeing a divine soul in the served’ ‘Charity, Asya, is as much a necessity as is a value-oriented business solution that puts systems and processes to solve any social problem. Through Charity dear, we may not build scalable or sustainable solutions. But then, through Charity – we keep alive and burning that spirit within us, which makes us feel human. We keep alive and burning that love in us, which is non-judgmental of a fellow human. Through Charity, we keep alive and burning that empathy in us, which makes us see all life as equal’, I finished writing. I do not know when I will finish building the washroom for that old lady. But I know, every morning I see on my way to work, she is a lesson that keeps me alive and burning to be a human. Most amazing moment of life: To see the relief in her eyes, as she has the first sip of tea in the morning everyday. Funniest moment of life: ‘Why do you sit here on this lane, and not near a temple?’, I asked the old lady. ‘Here I am by myself. Near a temple, People compare me with other beggars and check if I deserve money before giving’, she said. I kept smiling all day at how sweet and smart she was. Lesson learnt: There is no problem in the world, that human kindness and service, cannot solve.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 16:52:59 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015