The Need for Co-existence

Location: Avon Restaurant, Hosur Road, Koramangala

Time: 1 P.M.

Me: I’ll have one egg biriyani.

Friend 1, 2 & 3: We’ll have chicken biriyani.

Waiter: Ok, sir. 15 minutes.

[I should mention here that Friend 3 loves poking fun at random people in general, but also has a history of finding himself at the receiving end unexpectedly at times.]

Friend 3 (to tease the waiter): Aeeiinn.. Thoda ulli.. Illa illa.. Adhu enna da solvaanga?

Friend 1: Pyaaz.

Friend 3 (in broken Hindi): Aan! Pyaaz. Thoda pyaaz leke aao, bhai.

Waiter: Aen avlo kashta padreenga? Vengaayam-ne sollunga. [Why do you have to struggle so much? Just ask for vengaayam. (the Tamil word for onion)]

Me, Friend 1 & 2: Hahahahahahhahahahahahahhhahahha.. Bouuuuuu!!! [The same “bowwu” Dhanush uses in Why This Kolaveri Di song]

Friend 3: *awkward silence and sheepish looks*

Now, the reply (from the waiter) wouldn’t have caused embarrassment if it had come from a Tamilian. Not even if it were from a Telugu, Kannadiga or a Malayalee. But the fact that it was from a North-East person is what took us all by surprise, and made us roar with laughter the moment the sentence ended.

Further enquiry revealed that the waiter had worked in Tirupur for a few years before moving to Bengaluru, and that’s where he learnt Tamil. We were amazed by his proficiency in the language in that there was not a hint of non-native accent in his speech. He sounded very much like a native Tamilian. Unlike people who move to different cities to earn a livelihood and stubbornly refuse to learn the local language—and it’s a well-known fact that there are SO MANY such people in Bengaluru—this man made the effort to learn Tamil when he was in Tirupur, and made sure he’s a decent speaker.

There are definitely more such industrious NE people in our cities. Those whom I’ve interacted with so far have always been respectful and well-mannered. And, as their fellow citizens, we must treat them as our equals, and not as outsiders.

Now, there are some important facts about the North-Eastern states we must all know before we discriminate against people who come from there. I’m just using a couple of examples related to Assam here.

With an annual yield of 6,80,400 kg, Assam is the world’s largest tea-growing region. So the probability of your daily dose of tea—be it at home or at the tea stall—being made of leaves plucked in Assam is very high. Also, note that some tea stalls are run by Malayalees, which means the cup of tea is a symbol of national integration in itself.

Also, Assam is the hometown of India’s oldest refinery, the Digboi refinery which was commissioned in 1901. This refinery belongs to the state-owned oil company – IndianOil. There are two more refineries in Assam, one at Guwahati, and one at Bongaigaon. Again, there’s a probability of the fuel you fill in an IndianOil pump to be a produce of Assam. There is also the possibility of the Indane LPG cylinder you use at home for cooking being a produce of Assam.

Of course, IndianOil does have refineries at other states, and there is a possibility of our using the produce of those as well. That’s the level of dependency we find in our day-to-day life—a very important reason for co-existence.

Just imagine if the people of Assam try to create an indirect embargo on tea and petroleum trade to different parts of the country. It’d for sure affect normalcy throughout. The other states that supply their goods to the North-Eastern states can avenge for this through another embargo from their side. But it’ll never be of any use to anyone. The day we realize that we’re dependent on so many people for so many things in our life, and be thankful for what we get from them is the day we lay the foundation for growth.

We welcome the North-East monsoons wholeheartedly, but treat North-East manushans (people) in a very ugly way.

It’s time for us to change.

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Image courtesy: http://loveme4evers.wordpress.com/

Thanking Our Lucky Stars and Counting Our Blessings

I was struggling to get a better view of the road through the camera's viewfinder. It's not every day that you get to see wonderful sceneries on a highway, that too while the vehicle is still in motion. Viknesh was on the car's backseat, looking at the scenery to his left. Benjamin, wearing his 'cool' red sunglasses and cracking an occasional PJ, was driving cheerfully. 'Suttum vizhi chudare' from Ghajini was playing on the audio system.

Benjamin suddenly jammed the brakes and the Verna skid towards the right for a few metres, hit the median and turned sharp leftwards and descended into a pit dug up for the six-lane expansion project on the highway. Shaken and stirred, yet unhurt, all three of us got out of the car. A huge crowd surrounded us to check the scene.........

24/12/2011

The day our Christmas and New Year holiday commenced. All three of us were on our way home to spend the precious 9 days that made almost all our friends envy us. It was a bright day. The sun shone brighter than usual and we started our roadtrip around 7.45 AM. A Bengaluru-Chennai trip does not take more than 6 hours usually. But it took us nearly 15 hours that day – the reason, the accident we met with on our way.

Benjamin is not a reckless driver; he’s a highly responsible one. He does love speed, but he’s always in control of the vehicle. He reads Lakshmi’s (his car) mind and drives accordingly. But what can he only do when it was destined that a moronic and completely mindless lady with 0% road sense should screw up our day by causing a nearly fatal accident?

Also, it was Viknesh’s first ever road trip and he was looking forward to it eagerly ever since he knew about the plan. We were listening to Tamil movie songs on the car’s audio system and singing along happily. There were the occasional I’m-always-ready-to-race kind of drivers on the road and Ben showed them who the boss was time and again. Ben and I were determined to make Viknesh’s first ever road trip a very memorable one for him. We even put up our ‘Malarey mounama…’ performance, one of our most favourite pastimes, with me singing the male lines and Ben singing the female lines in the female voice – in this case, S Janaki’s.

Besides the fuel break at a petrol pump in Koramangala, the very long wait at each and every toll plaza and a brief pause for breakfast at a roadside eatery somewhere after Krishnagiri, there were no other halts during our journey. The journey itself was really smooth until a lady on a Scooty Pep with two kids crossed the road from the wrong side and made the whole event take a horrible turn. The ‘Wrong Turn’ in our lives......

Ben was driving steadily at a speed of 85-90 kmph because he realized that the car was consuming a lot of fuel at higher speeds. Just near this village called Elarappatti, he noticed a lady on a scooter with two kids crossing the road.

Now, let me tell you how she crossed the road. She started the scooter, rode a few metres forward, and stopped at the middle of the road for no reason whatsoever. Ben thought she was making way for us and steered right. The lady suddenly changed her mind and started the vehicle without realizing that she was crossing our path. This came as a bolt from the blue to Ben, who, just like Viknesh, was witness to the lady’s totally mindless act. He jammed the brakes because he had no other option. The car would have certainly hit the lady if he hadn’t done that.

The lady never stopped. She just sped away.

The camera slipped from my hands and fell near the pedals. My spectacles went flying and landed at the same spot. Unable to withstand the inertia, Viknesh automatically bent forward with his head almost getting stuck between the two seats in front.  The car came to a sudden standstill in the pit and the three of us emerged out totally unscathed.  I spat on the ground and out came blood instead of saliva. I had a very small wound inside my mouth. We realized it was the only physical injury any of us incurred and were glad that none of us got seriously injured. But Ben was completely inconsolable. He was broken into pieces when he saw that the front right tyre had burst and the impact had damaged the wheel’s rim and front bumper.

The highway maintenance team brought a tow truck to take the car out from the pit and the Verna had to be towed for nearly 50-60 km to Vellore, where the nearest Hyundai service station was located.

Among the people gathered around us was a highway patroller who saw the whole incident. As luck would have it, he affirmed the fact that the lady had caused the accident and that we had nothing to do with it. His presence in the scene helped us a lot in explaining the situation to the cops, who would later employ methods to extract money from us. Their cheapness became evident when they asked Ben to pay a huge sum of 3000 rupees as a bribe to give him the certificate required to claim insurance. Well, that’s another story altogether. But the irony is that the highway patroller was a policeman himself and was a very honest and helpful person at the same time. Duality is omnipresent.

The accident did give us a huge shock and traumatized us to a great extent. But in the end, we let perspective take charge and show us the good things that saved us from great peril.

What if the car had collided with the scooter? Three people would have died and three people would have been behind bars.

What if we hadn’t worn our seat belts? We would have definitely died on the spot or would have been injured seriously.

What if the highway patroller were not in the scene? It would have become difficult for us to explain our case to the police who would in turn try their best to milk money from us.

Finally, what if we didn’t have sane heads above our shoulders and a sense of humour inside those heads? We would have certainly found it very tough to cope up with difficult situations such as these.

Such infinite “what ifs” open up a myriad of grave possibilities that would have made things worse. Luckily, none of these “what ifs” took place and that’s the reason we are now counting our blessings and thanking our lucky stars for being on our side. That’s again the reason my belief in God (not deities, but a higher force that is above and within all of us) has increased. Considering the very next day was Christmas, it would have become much more difficult for our families if they were to hear bad news about their children. I, later, told Benjamin that he himself was the best Christmas gift his family got this year to which he nodded in the affirmative.

Amidst this chaos, there were other things that are definitely worth mentioning here – the importance of making people feel good, the joy of giving and the heartfelt blessings of a fellow human being.

There was a guy in the crowd, who, just like others, was inspecting the damaged car out of curiosity. He noticed that the car alone had suffered serious injuries whereas all three lives that travelled in it were unhurt. He said something that I’ll remember throughout my life. He said, “Neenga yaarukko romba nalla dharmam panni irukkeenga. Adhu dhaan ungala kaappatthichu.” (You have displayed great generosity to someone. That’s what saved you.) Read on.....

A few minutes before the accident, when we went to break our fast, a poor old lady, selling flowers, asked me to buy some. I refused and went ahead for breakfast. She came back again after we were done with our food and once again persuaded me to buy some flowers. I gave her ten rupees and she gave me a muzham (a forearm’s length) of jasmine she had. She told me that her business wasn’t doing well and asked me for ten more rupees. I felt bad for her and gave her what she asked. She blessed us saying, “Unakku romba punniyama poagum.” (May all blessings be with you.) I then placed the flowers on the picture of Jesus Christ stuck to the car’s dashboard.

I wouldn’t have realized the depth and sincerity of the old lady’s words if we hadn’t met with the accident and the stranger hadn’t spoken about the value of generosity. I got reminded of an old Tamil song that goes, “Dharmam thalai kaakkum; thakka samayatthil uyir kaakkum.” (Dharma saves your head; and at the appropriate time it also saves your life.)

Another lesson we learnt is on the importance of a sense of humour. Well, what has happened has happened. There is no way you can undo it. That being the case, what’s the point in feeling unending sorrow? Moving on is the only best thing possible. I got reminded of a quote by Kahlil Gibran: “A sense of humour is a sense of proportion.”

We also found solace in the fact that good people still roam the earth. The highway patroller, the maintenance guys from L&T and the mineral water can storehouse owner who offered us help increased our belief in humanity. We complain about bad people, but we fail to realize that goodness is inherent in all of us. It’s just that we let selfishness cloud our minds.

This accident definitely shook our souls, but there is no denying that it came along with its own share of lessons on life and living. Most important of all, I came to know about how making people feel good works wonders in life.

I turn 21 today and I’d now like to make a birthday resolution that I’ll always try my best to make people feel good. Even if I can’t, I’ll at least try my best to not make them feel bad. After all, there’s nothing we would take along with us on our final journey. Why make the journey of life miserable for our fellow human beings, brothers and sisters?

Life is fragile. Life is cruel. Yet life is sweet. Life is beautiful.