Of Unsolicited Calls and Credit Cards

Unsolicited calls are largely annoying. When in the middle of some urgent work –by that never-failing law of Murhpy, you are bound to do something very important – suddenly your phone rings and a voice announces her name and the company she works for, and then going thru the details of very exciting and unique offer they have come up with. That is irritating, to say the least. But you gotta enjoy whatever comes your way:

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Nobody can match the credit card companies when it comes to making unsolicited calls and sending cards. They have insatiable desire to throw cards at you. We don’t even distribute our visiting cards at the frequency with which they send us credit cards. I never knew I had so much credit in the world before I started getting these cards! Thanks for the enlightenment! They are the ones who know the mathematics of the permutations and combinations by heart, and practice it every day and night. So they have one card for every food joint which sells you junk food, every petroleum company which also houses a junk food joint in their petrol bunks, every music channel which plays enough songs in between the commercial breaks just to be qualified as a music channel and anything else they can think of(see, I find myself not good at these permutations and combinations). Then they try to put some art into it by making cards of different shapes and sizes and colors.  One real benefit is, –give the credit where it’s due – now I know that platinum and titanium are the precious metals along with gold. Unfortunately miners and scientists are not discovering precious metals faster than these companies can dole out plastic currencies, depriving ignorant people like me of acquiring precious knowledge.

So how do you stop these calls? You can’t! They always pretend that they did not hear your NO, and never fail to call you back. I realized that I may be better at lying than at saying NO, so I always say I already have the card which they are offering. It works, believe me. They will ask if you use any other bank’s card and you should answer NO. That is the only NO they like and accept. The call is over there and then until the next time. But I only figured that out after I accumulated 10 cards, 8 of them sent without my agreement or knowledge. Like Angulimaal, literally the one who wears a garland of human fingers, I could have worn a garland of cards but I decided not to flaunt my ill-gotten wealth for which I am supposed to pay later! Rather I decided to take the path of renunciation without any Buddha to guide me. I cut them to pieces, taking violent pleasure in the process. Even the scissors’ blade became blunt by the time I rid all of them. At last, Buddha inside me was smiling.

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Out of need, I applied for an account with some ABC Bank. I submitted all the documents to an executive(everyone is an executive officer in the age we live in). In due time, I got the account. That’s straight-forward, isn’t it? After a few days, I got call from the same executive, but he was employed by some XYZ Bank now. He requested me to open an account with XYZ Bank. The reason? “Now I work with this bank, and if you open an account with us, that will help me.” He replied. “Very well.” I said, “But aren’t you guys there to help the customers, not the other way?” I do not remember his vague answer, but that day onwards, he never called. Either he had no urge to move to any other bank or he had no urge to help me. My account with him was closed forever.

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“Is…is this Mr. So-and-So?”, a reluctant voice asked in a low tone.

“Ye…ss?”, I tried to match her reluctance and almost succeeded.

“Good morning, sir! I am from MoneyMatters. Do you need a loan?”, this time with more confidence.

“No, I do not need any loan.”, I started reaching for the disconnect button.

“Are you salaried or self-employed?”, she asked before I could hang up the phone.

“Salaried.”,instinctively I replied.

“Then you can take a loan, no, sir?”, almost implying that getting monthly salary and not having a loan burden is a sin in this world.

“For that matter, lady, I can kill you. How would you like it?”, my mind already conjuring what else I can do.

Next I heard is a loud thud. Complete silence after that. I assume her life was very dear to her, since I never heard back from her. Between the money and the life, you see, the life still matters more.

I wonder if they would call the God for a loan had they had His phone number or any hotline existed between the earth and the heavens. They surely would. Going by what is happening around us –droughts in China and Brazil, floods in Australia, earthquake in New Zealand, hottest summer in Russia, volcano eruption and coldest winter in Europe, and adding the troubles in Middle-East – heaven’s finances are certainly out of order. God may be desperately looking for some help, a possible loan. There is no better customer than the providence itself. Does anybody have His number?

Back to Auroville

It is with the great affection that you return to places which have given you fond memories or which have brought the significant firsts in your life. Auroville is one such place for me. It is the place where I shared so many great moments with some of my best friends on a trip a few years back. That trip brought many unknown facets of the world to the fore and got me interested and hooked to travel. Last year I also ran my first full marathon in Auroville. Exactly a year after, as if in a happy coincidence to celebrate my first anniversary of that marathon, I find myself on that land of red soil and lovely trail to run the second of the 12 marathons we have endeavored on. 

Auroville Marathon is, without doubt, one of the most scenic and easiest marathons to run, given you run it in daylight. But we start at 5 AM in the morning, in complete dark, and no lights on the trail, except the torch given by the organizers. That spells danger considering the uneven surface, small narrow trails and never-ending turns. Many people injure themselves on the route, sometimes very badly that you can hear them abusing the organizers, the trail and everything else they can think of. I intend not to be member of that distinguished group, so I start slowly and try to contain myself from running fast. After a couple of kilometers I hit a narrow trail inside the jungle. The torchlight is so dim that at every turn, I have to stop and see if I am on right track and not hitting a tree. It looks scary in the darkness. A dog’s howling afar comforts me! I never imagined I would say that but it’s the truth. Screeching sounds of birds feel like masterful rendition of a classic. Even the stars which are so distant you would need a computer to find out their distance from earth become your guiding lights. I hear a faint sound of a runner’s approaching footsteps and see the fading light from his torch. I somehow manage to match his speed by adjusting mine according to the sound and the light from back so that I do not need to run alone. His name is Deepak. What a fine name, I think to myself, and very apt too! A piece of synchronicity to occur at the right moment. After a few minutes I realize that it’s not necessary to do that fine-tuning because even he is interested in keeping pace with me. We both need each other. The realization dawns upon me like a burst of a supernova – we humans need each other more in the darkness than in light. In the darker moments when we are vulnerable and lost, the support and the guidance of fellow humans allay our fears and nudge us to right direction. We are partners, not participants and competitors. Ever wondered why the camaraderie is relatively stronger between the members of a mafia gang? They are creatures of night. 

I see face of Deepak first time after running with him for about an hour. We stop at a water point and I look at him to capture the image of the man who accompanied me and helped me negotiate the twists and turns of the dark trail. Not surprisingly, once in light, we both revert to our normal self – competitive, self-centered and goal-oriented. He asks me about my goal for this marathon. We both share same goal, of finishing in less than 4 hours. We must pick up the speed if we were to attain that. He increases his speed. I try to stay with him. After a while, I cannot keep up with him and he runs ahead, out of sight, as if he never existed. I would have done the same if I were capable of doing that. We move on, alone, whenever we can, leaving behind those who were with us till that very moment. That’s why the members of families who constantly go thru hardships are strongly bonded. They share a common objective to fight for their wellbeing, which the others do not who have it rather easy. Happiness and comforts carry their own disadvantages.

At the half way mark, I see the 5K and 10K runners starting their run. I blend myself in the lot. Not feeling very strong, I start walking in between. The group of drummers at one corner lift my spirits but that does not last very long. But that weakness come with blessing. While walking I can enjoy the surroundings more. The turns which felt so dangerous before suddenly become openings to new vistas. The narrow trails bring me closer to the nature, literally, as I relish the scratching of the green leaves on my body. The sun rays making their way thru thick trees feel like the early morning shower. The plethora of architectural delights from all the over the world constantly pleads for the attention. In the process I lose some time, but gain much more that what the clock could provide for.

I finish my marathon in 4 hours and 22 minutes, taking out 35 minutes from my previous Auroville marathon. After collecting my finisher’s t-shirt and having breakfast under the shamiyana, I wait for my teammates. One by one they keep coming, finishing stronger than ever. We make a picnic-eque scene whenever any runner comes sprinting for that last dash to the finish line. Everyone is greeted like a superhero. In the end, only Manish remains on the trail. I set out on the trail in the opposite direction to see how is he doing and check if he needs any help. Vinit joins me. We see a group of runners from Hyderabad in identical outfit feasting on chocolates and biscuits. They are waiting for their hero, they say. No, it’s not celluloid hero like Chiranjivee or Nagarjuna they are talking about. They mean the last runner in their group. I make a point that long distance running is the only sport where being last is not seen as being unworthy of or matter of being looked down. On the contrary, you are looked upon as a hero – a hero which never gives damn to what or how others do, never leaves blazing and lonely trail and continues his march even when every micron in the body and every neuron in the brain pull him back.

We find Manish just 600 meters away from the finish line. We goad him to go faster. He says that his knees have all gone weak, but he still runs with us. The gang welcomes him to the loudest cheers. Our second marathon is completed. Prakhar analyses his run and makes some fine points. He also observes that every marathon teaches a runner a new lesson which he carries with him forever. For me, every marathon brings some lasting image. I try to think what that image is for this marathon. I cannot think of any though I try very hard. Just then I see a runner putting his final steps towards the finish line. There comes my image – at times we try so desperately to look for something that we do not see it right there in front of our own eyes. He reaches to the finish line but does not cross it. He stops there and then. The strength of his posture makes you think that even a bulldozer cannot move him from there. He looks skywards, his hands folded and mutters a prayer. I guess he is thanking God. The tears in his eyes are dried in the hot sun before they leave the eyelashes. In those eyes I can see the look of fear, dread, doubt, agony, ecstasy, accomplishment, achievement and love, all together. That might be his first marathon, or the most trying one. Satheesha runs to congratulate him. Gopal hugs him. None of them knows him. That is what a marathon can do to you – it makes you grateful, it connects you to God and the people who are embodiments of that Almighty. In that moment, the line does not signify finish, but start of a new life, a new adventure, a new beginning. One just needs to Get, Set, Go!

P.S. – Deepak finished his marathon in less than 4 hours. I am happy for him. Post marathon, we had lunch at the restaurant in the Auroville Visitors Center. We hogged food like elephants. The food is highly recommended, more so if you also happen to run a marathon prior to that and are hungry to the last bones of your body.

Musings on an Indian Train

When you travel in a train in India, the journey is always replete with many challenges, events and experiences. The biggest challenge, according to me, remains that of luggage. Indians tend to carry a lot of luggage, unnecessarily so, though an alternate belief is that we carry our town and state wherever we go. It’s a tough task to enter the train when the doors are all stacked with tons of bags and suitcases of those whose journey is coming to an end. It reminds me of that commercial floating on the TV during the Commonwealth Games, Indian Rail, Desh ka Mail. If you are fortunate, you board the train on time but a bigger challenge awaits you inside – where to put your own luggage? By some sheer stroke of ingenuity, some people manage to fly their luggage in and chain them to all the luggage hooks in your compartment before even you can locate your seat. When you ask them to make some room for your luggage, you get to hear the famous line with Indianness imprinted all over it, bhaisaab, thoda adjust kar lo na. They invariably have kids with them for whom they do not need to buy the tickets, meaning they are going to share the seats with the little ones. Most of us do adjust, out of our generous nature or out of the fear of inviting frowns from fellow passengers. It’s impossible to fathom what is more stretchable – our tendency to ask to adjust or our tendency to adjust? When adjustment is not an option –if you are one of those who wanted others to adjust – we piled the luggage on the seat, eating out the sitting and sleeping space.

Another frequently asked favor is to trade your seat with someone. The great Indian family is so big, and the births are allocated in such a way that not all family members get seats in same compartment. We love to travel with kins of our family and friend-circle, even if the journey is only going to last overnight. And there is no limit to how much the family can extend! During one train journey, I exchanged seats with 3 different people within 10 minutes of boarding the train. One family was so huge and their seats were so widely scattered that they took another two hours to gather their clan in one place. I settled in my seat, finally! So did I think! I saw a kid sitting in the seat opposite to mine. Her brown hair was tied in two little ponytails behind her head. The deep-set eyes and curled lips made her nose look bigger than it actually was. She glanced at me with that look when you are not sure if you can trust the other person. I smiled, just enough, and she laughed. The friendship was established. Before I could dwell more into that newly-found affinity, her father came calling, asking me if I could exchange seat with his relative. The trouble was that his relative was in coach S1 while I was in coach S7. I hesitated since it involved walking inside 6 full coaches with luggage. Besides who knew how many more such requests awaited me there. His pleading continued. I had to yield in the end and one more family was united, what if only for the journey. By then I came to know that the kid in the opposite seat was not a girl, but a boy! These days you cannot tell the difference really.

But for all their shortcomings, the Indian train journey provides the most conducive setup for a mind which has some inclination for philosophy. As Mihir says, saari duniya ki philosophy books ek taraf, aur bharatiya rail ek taraf. If you think deeper, the reason for it is that Indian trains are so slow! You are sitting idle, you keep looking at hamlets, towns and farms, mountains and rivers, all patched up in the fabric of this multi-cultured country and sewed by the network of thousands of stations. Compare that to the trains in European countries or US or China, which run at 150kmph or more than that. You can only see those blurred images floating past in jiffy and crowding your mind with more images. Philosophy feeds on an idle mind and idyllic scenery. Once I was just looking outside the window. From behind the window, it appeared that the world was divided by artificial lines drawn by the horizontal iron bars of the window. The sky was separated from the hills, which in turn were separated from the trees. The trees were separated from the grass on the ground. We humans are given to divide the world in our quest to classify and simplify everything. At that moment, the train stopped, waiting for a signal to turn green. I stepped out of the train, and the picture presented itself in the whole. There was no division. Everything was connected. The world became one grand orchestra where everything and everyone had something to play…and sometimes you just have to play nothing. That day onwards, whenever I encounter myself in a hopeless situation or find my role insignificant in an event of life, I relive those moments and rescue my mood from deep slump.  

No journey is complete without giving a thought to distance. I always feel that distance is more when I am going to a destination than when I am coming back home. Perhaps like time, even the distance -and space -is also relative. Einstein famously defined relativity as, “Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity.” I guess our notion of distance is entangled with notion of time. Otherwise why would you have a unit of distance with the name light year? In the matter of hearts though, the concept of distance is even more fascinating. Sometimes the distance brings people closer to each other. Conversely, at times, too much closeness separates them beyond any hope of reunion. Like a Bolywood song’s line goes, jyada najdeekiyon me hote hai dooriyon ke ishaare. Poets are, in a way, scientists whose research topic is the human heart and emotions.

Then you always meet some people who inspire you in some way or make your day or simply introduce some good side of humans which you failed to notice till now. In another journey, I was waiting for the train to start. A beggar suddenly showed his face from outside the window and asked for money. His face evoked pity in me. As a matter of principle I do not give money to beggars because there are even business racquets running around begging and you can never tell if someone is a genuine beggar or in business of begging. I turned away from him. Just then I saw the person in the opposite seat taking a 10 rupee note out of his shirt pocket,  making rounds of it on his son’s head and giving it to the beggar. By no means it looked as if he was from a well-to-do family. He was there to see off his wife and the child. From his khakhi shirt, I assume he was an autowala. He was laughing and playing with his son and making light fun of his wife. He was happy and loving. I did not understand what drove him to such generosity. May be love makes people generous. Or he just understood the value of 10 rupees and how it could help the beggar. Poor people are rich in hearts anyway.

On the same journey, I was fiddling around the next day. It was afternoon and I had no intention of having lunch inside the train. Though the train food stops short of it sucks, it is never tasty to call for second eating. A waiter came asking if I needed food, and i just glanced above, all prepared to say no. But the words escaped my mouth! The broad, innocent and unpretentious smile he carried over his face was overpowering. The grin was so wide, I thought even his grey moustache was also smiling along with it and it made his eyes sparkle with delight. It was kind of smile which made you believe the world is in perfect order. I ordered the food, not for the sake of food but to see him smiling again. Remembering that face makes me smile even these days. Some faces have that positive effect on you. And that is the promise and potential a train journey always holds.