E I G H T 200 N I N E

So, welcome again. I know you have been too busy to visit my blog these days. You were either reading short listed Booker books or just not in a mood to stop by. I was, as ever, a lazybones, happy in the company of long-practised procrastination. Someone suggested ‘physically conservative’ instead of the word ‘lazy.’ Well, whatever it is, this is the time we sit down in our cozy corner self-assessing our deeds during the last 365 days, that is a year that passeth by, to be precise.

I didn’t have a rosy picture to draw at the beginning of the year 2008. It was just as usual. I felt dejected, frustrated, somewhat depressed with no work in the pipeline. I explored many options, discussed them with friends but none of these was close to my heart. Not that I was not capable of doing anything, but it happened just like that – I didn’t do anything; didn’t read a book, didn’t write either, my thoughts were not anchored and that angered me beyond repair. I was looking for some way out of this mess. I had bulky, executable projects in mind, some of which I put meticulously on paper, but the ignition was missing. I was sure many of these were ‘unputdownable’ ideas. I could sell those to entrepreneurs like Balram, the original White Tiger, but would not pick them up myself. Fortunately, I found empathizers in some of my friends who were, unfortunately, feeling the same. They were intellectually capable persons, worldly wise, politically learned, raring to go, but just didn’t make the right move. Just like me.

Some of my young friends didn’t think twice before making the journey. They were energetic, had age on their side, I told you, and they had the liberty to experiment. The journey mattered and not the direction to reach the goal. This was contagious, I feel now. I started moving out of my den, out in the sun; met people, had good food, read documents and wrote small nothings. People encouraged me and I kept myself positive and optimistic. Every journey starts with a small step forward, you see. I felt enthused by my failings, by my fractured achievements and realized the need to mend them to get a comprehensible meaning. Along with two of my friends, we spent a couple of days at Karnal – just drove to nearby dhabas, rowed purposelessly in Karna Lake, visited a neighborly village and opened our heart out on every subject bothering us. On another occasion, made a visit to Ajmer and the Pushkar Fair with some friends. It was a vibrant, colorful affair. Buoyed by the impressions of Pushkar Fair, I wrote them down in simpler words (read more about it below) and published it as my first post in the blog. This blog, created at the persistence of my two lovely friends, was an attempt to unshackle myself from the Writer’s block.

Before the year could end, I earned some new friends, met long-heard-about-never-met friends, and even got invited to barbecue parties. And before the next year passes by, I hope to add a few more through this blog or otherwise. A friend gifted me priceless books on her own, one being about Kazi Nazrul Islam. During a seminar in Delhi, I had the opportunity to interact with scholars of eminence. They showed interest in some of my projects, giving me a fillip to take them up in right earnest. Some friends however chose to keep silent and away from me. I know the importance of their posts and the work they do keep them too busy to attend to anything else. I neither mind nor remind them of the olden days. Some of my close friends are in trouble – I try my best to help them out. Some of my friends are geographically at a distance but I know they will be there for me, always.

At the end of the day, I feel everyone has a right to differ and to do different things. I keep my eyes open to the world and try to imbibe the liberal ideas from my more knowledgeable friends. I walk a route of ‘positive procrastination’ that allows me the luxury of laziness and a bit of work too. I won’t look back at 2008 with disappointment. Some work remains unfinished and some promises unfulfilled. We cannot take all in a row. There is a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment as I walk down to the New Year. It’s a continuum and I will walk the rest. I may not touch the horizon ever but aiming to reach there is full of fun and worth the time in one’s life.

KNOW TO SPEAK

As I was flipping through the Sidney Sheldon bestseller, I noticed a middle aged man sitting diagonally in front of my seat in the bus. Nothing spectacular about him, I muttered. He was looking blankly out of the windows. The Haryana bus crouched slowly towards Delhi. I was occupied with thoughts about my unfinished projects (which perennially remain unfinished, if you know me well). I was even planning new ones without caring for the past. The bus was utterly slow. I repented for not driving the car to office. The thriller also appeared dull and boring in this insipid situation. I tried to concentrate on the buildings – the shining glass exteriors, the innovative designs, the cars, the smart and jazzy guys and gals, and so on. Shining India!

The bus conductor finished his job of issuing tickets. He occupied the vacant seat just beside the man sitting diagonally in front of me. After some time, I discovered an animated conversation going on between the two. Must be some talk about politics men love to discuss, I thought. But the man, I found to my surprise, could not speak – he was speech impaired, to use the more civilized word. He was using some sign language and trying his best to put his ideas across to his newfound friend, the bus conductor. It was a silent eloquence, I should tell you. More attractive was the way in which the conductor was responding to the man. He was equally reciprocating with his own method of sign language, picking up from his just acquired knowledge. Obviously, the conductor was not adept at the sign language the speech-impaired people use for group interactions. The crux of the matter was he did not leave it at that. He simply refused to accept his failure to ‘talk’ to a person who could not talk.

Suddenly, the environment in the bus appeared very lively to me. I forgot to curse the driver for his not-so-expert driving capabilities; the bus interiors did not matter any more. I had seen before some of the speech-impaired students walking down from the Gurgaon bus stand. They would discuss among themselves in sign language. Mine was always a curious look at this amusing conversational art but I never cared about their world. I considered they were happy to interact within the group itself. Unknowingly, I used to justify my attitude towards them: we did not have any business interfering in their affairs nor did they have any urge to share their thoughts with us.

And now here before me were these two men – one had been unkindly ordained a big NO to speak and another – a simple, not-so-well educated bus conductor silently offering me the humane lesson: KNOW to speak.