The Illusion called Time

10.15 p.m.: I am returning home in a rickshaw after a very long exhausting day, physically and emotionally, I had extreme ‘high’ day after two days of  ‘low’.. so in all a roller coaster…

It unusually cold in Mumbai..or maybe it’s just me..I pull my warm pink shawl tighter around me…. And all I want to do is be quiet and reflect.. deep in my thoughts I am pondering over some questions that I am asking myself.. and feel like gravity is suddenly very active…

Lost in my thoughts .. as the rickshaw stops at the signal.. A beggar woman comes with her chubby but barely covered child. A year and half old maybe…

I don’t have the energy to even say ‘no’ so I just look at and past her..  

It’s a usual sight on Mumbai streets… these people have become like the signal post, at which we had stopped.,  always there..  and so,  conveniently ignored.

In a minute my rickshaw will move ..and so will this nagging conscience, or so I want to believe.

And then this little boy suddenly emulated his mom.. and did the ‘begging action’, the sudden movement shakes me out of my revere and I notice the goose bumps on his little hand for the first time.. and painfully became aware of the warm shawl ..the cold weather and,  my hot tears.. 

just as the rickshaw is about to move I put a ten-rupee note in the mother’s hand... mostly,  for me.

We moved from that signal.. but I could not stop crying.. The rickshaw driver and me exchanged a glance in the rear view mirror.. and he shook his head, we both knew what we were thinking about.

“It’s a tough life madam”, he said… “and sometimes what you see on these roads makes to relook at your own life..”

I look up ..silently wanting him to say more... I certainly wanted to relook at my own life..

Rajesh, the driver then started telling me about an incident that happened a week prior when he was taking  a man with a very sick wife to the hospital.. The wife was in a lot of pain.. She had a burst appendicitis, the man urged Rajesh to drive faster … they were going to a government hospital, because this guy was poor, he  didn’t have the money to go to a private hospital which was closer. 

Rajesh said, the government hospital was far and the wife was about to faint. The man said he only had 500 rupees and the private place would ask at least 3000 to even admit.

All this conversation, while Rajesh was trying his best to drive as quickly as possible,  maneuvering the traffic and his own internal dilemma.

Rajesh then told me..in a matter of fact voice, that he had 2500 rupees on him, two days of hard earned money…, that he offered to this ‘unknown’ man.. 'I would just drink the money away as I usually do' , he said.. but this money could save a life, and it was ok to forego the alcohol.

But the man,  although taken aback by this act of kindness.. refused.

pause

By the time Rajesh reached the hospital.. the wife had died.

Rajesh drove them back to their house left the 2500 quietly with the uncontrollable crying man and left.

He had tears in his eyes when he told me this… He told me how helpless he felt and how he thought about life and what he believed to be important. And how timing was everything.

He decided to stop drinking completely after this incident.

As I sat there listening to him.. I was also pondering on.’ Timing’ and the illusion of time and how it all boiled down to some moments…of being present Fully to another human being.


Moved by these 3 stories that had unfolded in a matter of 30 minutes… The little boy, the couple in the rickshaw and Rajesh…..  Somehow, my own story and questions had a new perspective..
Gravity lessened it's hold somehow.

The irony of waiting at the Signal... is not lost to me.

 Grateful for the long 30-minute ride.





An Ode to the Bolero.