Offline friendships

It is astonishing to see how needs of individuals vary. Friends are often on our chat list. If chatting is blocked at work, e-mail works. Add to it the orkut, linkedin, facebook and twitter. But do we really connect to people we chat online, I ask myself. Sometimes, we do. The fact is we can’t do without Internet and therefore have to resort to these online media to serve our purpose to remain connected to our dear ones. It is another topic that we have ‘dear ones’ in 1000s which in itself is inexplicable, I feel. So, I tend to find my online reach sometime exhaustive but also, hollow. I realize that people I chat with don’t connect in most cases. The communication actually dies down with time. Only our web presence remains.

Now when I look back a few years from now, I made friends who were not at all connected to Cyber Space. The reason: they were public servants with the Ministry of Home Affairs. Today I fondly remember Rakesh and Charan. Both came from different places (former – Alwar, latter – Dehradun) and got job at the same place and they decided to stay together, as we do during our first job outside our home city. They used to stay in my locality. Metro Rail, then, was still under construction so had to depend on the buses that used to start from our residential area. Every day travel connected me with them. It was a genuine relationship of belonging to a bus, locality and sharing a journey. Political discussions, music and a lot of Mirza Ghalib ghazals were our pass time. National daily ‘Hindu’ nurtured our day-to-day knowledge and understanding. I-pod was not there so Radio FM in our mobiles played a key bonding role, where we individually checked for the station playing the best song as per our likings. I fondly recall even today that Rakesh used to offer us gyaan about language – especially Urdu & Hindi, cultural changes the country is going through, civilization, what not… for having developed interests on these subjects and his consistent readings. I owe my understanding of little Urdu and liking for this language to him.

A few sessions of having tea near a roadside stall during monsoon drizzle during holidays ensured we enjoyed simplistic pleasure. Before going for a cup of tea, they would even tease me with hygiene issues as they knew I go to five star hotels for attending conferences and meetings. There used to be innumerous arguments on various subjects followed by thoughtful discussions. All are now just fond memories.

As time passed, both (little elder to me) of them got married and now nurturing their respective kids. They are no longer in Delhi. Rakesh stays at Jaipur and Charan in Dehradun as they asked for local postings. Both own flats in my colony compound. And therefore, there is a hope that they would return. We speak once in a blue moon and collectively, miss dearly the bygone days. Interestingly, I never missed them online. Not even today. They are still living perfectly in an age of cyber boom without a status of online presence. I feel they are far happier and self-contented than me by not getting caught in the jungle of information. They don’t feel any void of missing the virtual world as they live in the real one. I am happy that I am still connected with them, real-ly, and somewhere with the real world too.

Smile of hope

It was one busy day for me and had been cribbing about it within me since that morning. The day meant - travelling to too many places as I took my job too seriously having booked three meeting for a day one after another and at different parts of the city. That day now lays in the past for over a week or two, but something in particular has not allowed me to forget that morning and the resultant day afterwards. It was one of those inspiring instances that prepare you for the entire day and your march ahead for a struggle. I was in Saket, south of city, when I had to walk for mere 5 or 10 min to reach for my first venue for a meeting of that day.

As I was walking alongside the road avoiding the footpath, I came across a usual sight of a child pulling a rickshaw (this one with loads of mattresses and a person sleeping over it). As he was surpassing me, he asked for a direction to which I responded. It felt good.

He crossed me by a few steps and slowed down. Now I was almost walking neck-to-neck with him. He turned to me and smiled. Don’t know what made him share with me  his struggle but he said, “Abhi hum Yamuna paar se aa rahe hai.” I was shocked to hear that. The distance he has already travelled on that tri-cycle must have been more than 25 kms.

It was nothing new, as children like him survive like that with loads of hard work each day. His destination from Saket must have been around 10 kms further. I was shocked to the fact that he was smiling. That smile was unnerving. How can he afford to smile? Next thing I knew is that I was smiling too. I stopped cribbing about my hectic schedule - of facing a long day Delhi heat, trepidation of travelling within the city & braving its traffic and the pain associated to speaking to many people only for work - right away.

Now, whenever I am down and feel there is too much of pressure on me, I recall that kid without an identity but having a charming smile. Guess, everyone needs a source of inspiration and hope. I found mine for that particular day and may be, for many more days to come.