Life’s a collection of Events & Non-Events : the reason why I gave my Blog page that name.
Events & Non events dominate in most inter-personal communication : in my case that was so , with a negative bias , until I was over 45 . It was always BAD that was communicated , to the near total exclusion of GOOD that meets us each day with equal , if not greater frequency . A reflection perhaps of a mindset that GOOD is well deserved & therefore merits no mention whereas BAD is so undeserved as to merit reportage always : an inexplicable urge to take on the role of the victim as opposed to that of a beneficiary of all that the Universe has on offer .
It’s never too late, as the saying goes, to make suitable amends. And what better platform can there be than the Blog , to report GOOD that has so far remained unreported.
Some Monsoon memories would perhaps be an appropriate start : this one with a decade & a half rewind .
It was a dark, sombre & disconcerting night with pelting rain aggravating the sense of gloom all around . I hadn’t quite recovered from a malaise diagnosed as Burning Feet , & had just about recovered from a Retinal displacement in one eye that after surgical intervention had restored vision albeit at 70 % , compounded by a mild heart attack , a general sense of self deprecation , & a growing addiction to medically prescribed anti-depressants that made me feel like a Zombie. Having lost my once high profile Marketing job in a large Company , & following unsucessful attempts spread over two years & a half to get back to a position which I felt was rightfully mine , I had only just started at a significantly lower position, in a new job with a very small BIFR-entrapped near bankrupt Company which entailed a 150 minute commute in crowded BEST buses each way six days a week : Company Car & Chauffeur were by now a distant memory : contrary to the Monk who sold his Ferrari I was more likethe Skunk who lost his Ferrari .
It was well past 10 that night when the BEST bus came to its terminal halt outside the Santacruz depot . There was only one autorickshaw in sight & that was the coveted relief that I needed at the close of yet another miserable day. I was determined to be the first claimant as I dashed towards the rick , stumbling with my impaired vision , ere I was overtaken by a tennager who so obviously was a lot more atheletic in the pursuit of our common goal for that moment. ” ****** youngsters !! ” I swore , not quite sotto voce : I am not quite sure whether she heard my expletives : whether obscene or profane I have avoided an assessment : but ” May I drop you somewhere , uncle ” was , for sure , a very nice thing for me to hear once she had “usurped” the Rick from right under my nose . I accepted her offer & she did drop me at my doorstep , perhaps at the cost of a detour from her destination , & declined , ever so politely, my offer to share the Rick expense. I did not get around to asking her name nor her co-ordinates & was far too overwhelmed to even thank her suitably for her kind gesture. As I look back , I wonder if she was the manifestation of a Divine intervention : an intervention to remind me that there was GOOD all around & that all I needed to do was to see it , believe in it , & embrace it with reciprocal GOOD. A teenager , perhaps a college student , had started me off on my road to recovery . More later .
Cheers & atb & GN