A surprise sale where Anil and Ali are treated alike
Ten years ago, something happened that left a permanent deficit in my Karma Account.
While driving in a crowded street, as I hurried my way to my examination centre, a guy crossing the road appeared out of
nowhere and my speeding bike hit his bicycle and threw its wheels up in the
air, disfiguring it permanently. Thankfully, none got hurt.
In India, at road accidents people assume the
responsibilities that the government has entrusted to the Police. Hence
everyone around you is a policeman and has the right to reprimand.
With my exam starting in next 15 minutes, and I being the
witness of my own crime, I acted like a coward while saving myself from the
public-police-squad and instead of helping the poor guy, I ran away from the
scene.
As I drove past the brown haired guy whose life-line I just
crashed, I had a look at his face- a tall fair young guy in his twenties with
expressive eyes. His dirty clothes and dirty hands said the story of his
burdensome life and with a meek look, he accepted the recent burden I just
loaded him with. He picked up the leftover and with other workers walked in the other direction.
As I kept driving and watching the scene in the rear mirror to see if the crowd was chasing me, I saw that there was no public action. You know why? Because it wasn’t me who was guilty here, but the guy on the bicycle. His crime- his poverty. If the situation had been otherwise- he being not poor, the public would have scratched every inch of my skin on the road. So yeah, I was safe.
I appeared for my exam, came back home but never shared this
incident with anyone. But this kept
drilling every corner of my existence. I hated myself for the ‘inaction’
on my part and the pain never subsided.
I learnt a new feature of ‘regret’ during this decade. It
never fades. Time doesn’t heal a regret. And probably nothing can. Until you
decide to forgive yourself. Hence, I decided to forgive myself on the condition
that I reverse my ‘inaction.
I decided to donate a bicycle to a needy. But the real
question that popped up was as to how to recognize a needy. In Punjab where the
whole state is suffering from the abuse of drugs, where drug addicts even steal
public properties and sell them off for money- who would that be who genuinely
needs a bicycle. To which, Mom suggested a brilliant idea.
While passing across a construction site, Mom asked a bunch
of laborers if anyone needed a second hand bicycle that she knew was on sale. A
very young guy came forward and asked her the details of the price, model etc.
It was then, she declared that it was a ‘true needy’.
Today, we fixed the ‘surprise sale’ date and bought him a
bicycle.
I was curious to know more about him. He is from Muradabad where his debt-laden father
works as a mason in a Hindu-Muslim disturbed area, taking care of his 6 other
siblings, none of which has ever been to school. He is new to the city and
travels 15km on foot for his work to earn USD 4 per day as a daily wager.
I didn't want to color my liberation in saffron or green so I didn't ask his name, but took a promise from him- never to sell this but in case he
wanted to discard it, to give it for free to another needy. He promised back- he'll respect the 'gift'. The stupid guy thought that that it was a gift from me to him.
A gleam of light hit his face when he touched his ‘first
bicycle’ ever. The smile on his face as if eased my ten year old pain.
I am sharing this incident not to prove that what I did was
great, but to suggest that it is possible to liberate yourself from the
imprisonment of any form of regret that you might be living with. Reverse the inaction. Free
yourself!
Awesome
ReplyDelete