Being Generous

October 31, 2013 Ramu Das 2 Comments

Without giving it would be absolutely foolish to expect. Without giving it is hard to make friends. When you give you increase your value, at least to the taker’s eyes, and they respect you. You are esteemed, and you feel good about it and try to be more generous.

We don’t find many givers, but look and you will find multitudes of takers everywhere. You just have to be ready to give and you will have a taker, and one more, and more. Some takers would possibly take away whatever they can even from a blind beggar if they get the chance; such is the urge of takers.

Disappointment comes when you give and give and lose count of the number of times you give, but never ever get anything back. I like to give. If I’m capable of giving – be it book, be it money, and whatever – I just give. Now, it may sound as if I’m bragging for being generous, (it does, ha!) but I’m merely saying what I really do.

Once, after my shift in the office, I went out with a Senior Team Leader of our organization. He said he would drop me home in his car. His car was parked in a public area and he had to pay for it. He asked me to pay it. Without thinking twice I did it. Then he wanted to booze; he asked me if I wanted to drink. At first, I declined to drink, but I raised no objection if he drank. Nevertheless, he insisted on and on, that I should drink. Giving up, “Mild beer,” I said finally.

So we drank. I had only one beer, and he gulped down glasses after glasses of all the drinks he could name. And he could name a lot of them, mind you. When the waiter arrived with the bill, the Team Leader directed the waiter’s attention to my side and excused himself saying, “My bladder is going to burst, I wonder where the washroom is!”

Ha! That was funny, wasn’t that? I didn’t mind that a bit. But what disappointed me was when we met in the office the next day and he exclaimed he would return the amount I paid the other day. The amount I paid wasn’t small; small it maybe for him, but for me it was not. It has been 4 months and he is still returning the amount!

It has happened with me: people ask me for something; and I think I’m obligated to them. I move heaven and earth just to give them what they ask for. But, unlike some of my friends, I return what I take. Yes, I, the fool, return. This is not something to be proud of, but a conduct from which I cannot turn my head away.

The takers might be right in not giving what belongs to you from their perspective. Perhaps they think they become the rightful owner of the property, your property that is, once they get hold of it and the thought of returning it never strikes them; or, the thought may strike, but they just want to ignore all such thoughts.

Generosity, surely, is a very good quality, but always giving and never receiving anything in return is sheer stupidity. I say getting anything in return in the sense getting your own stuff back, as well as something that other ought to give you instead of just taking from you. But, without being asked one would hardly give you anything. How long can you let others take advantage of you? When the takers cross all their limits it is better to distance yourself from such a person/friend, takers that is.

We should never hesitate to give away whatever we can to those who cannot afford a single meal a day, and when we do give to such a person we should not expect something in return. So, mind whom you give and whom you should give. I would write more on this in the next post.

Poems

Stuck In The Middle Of This Roaring Road

October 26, 2013 Ramu Das 2 Comments

Stuck in the middle of this roaring road

I don’t know if the vehicle is the vehicle

Or my life is; I can no longer bear this load,

Poor me! I’m incapable of doing any miracle.

Troubled times these are that I’m living in.

What a pity, the flowers are dying, no one waters them.

Mean world this is, oh, so, so, mean!

Yet I have to bow my head and call you ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am’.

Mortal we are, one day we’ll die.

Why do we care so much to show our might,

And turn a truth into a lie?

I’m done with this life; I give up this gory fight.

VIEWS AND OPINIONS

The World of Imagination

October 20, 2013 Ramu Das 4 Comments

A very important question for us: is observation more important or imagination? If you ask me, I would say both are of equal importance; a creative writer will make use of everything, of every occurrence, of anything literally, to give an artistic touch to his or her work.

However, not everyone can be as good an observer as Conan Doyle’s the great Sherlock Holmes. I think, if you cannot be, you do not have to be. Human mind is capable of doing much more than what is visible to the naked eyes.

We can create something out of nothing. Here is one instance:

I was in my office, sitting on the chair, facing the computer. I was smiling – no, smiling is not the right word, blushing suits better. I blushed for the first time, then for second time and so on… Next to my desk was a colleague staring at me as blankly as one would stare at the question paper during the exam if you have not studied at all. I knew the reason for his curious stare, he might have thought I was eccentric, but I thought not to explain the reason for which I blushed.

He could not keep his thoughts to himself and finally blurted out, “Is something wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” I said.

He was not convinced with that, he added, “Looks like something is wrong, though.” I did not say anything, but he wanted to know, really know, what the matter was, “We believe in sharing, so say what’s it, why do you blush so much?”

I feared he would spread the rumor that I smile/blush/laugh and sometimes talk to myself for no reason. Therefore, I told him what he asked for: “See,” said I, “I was blushing not because I remembered something sweet or funny from the past, nor did I smile for something that I like about the present, nor did I think anything about the future that could possibly make me blush.”

“Ha! Then?” he said mockingly.

“I created a scene _,” I could say no more for the impatience colleague interrupted me.

“A scene!” said he. I nodded. “What are you talking about?”

“Yes,” I answered, “a scene in my mind that was nonexistent in reality.”

That was so, a nonexistent thing that I gave shape to, a situation I created. In reality, things seldom happen as we want them to, but we can think about them and make them appear in our mind as we wish they were. And thinking that, at least for a moment, we can be happy and smile and blush and laugh and talk to ourselves.

Watching movies and reading books serves as a supplement to the quality of our imagination. We can imagine anything, create a world full of demons, and imagine things beyond that. But, I have found, I can limit my imagination to things that are relevant to me, so to speak, I can be realistic even in my imagination, but of course, with a little twist here and a little twist there.

Poems

I Care

October 17, 2013 Ramu Das 6 Comments

Many a words I may not speak,

But, dearest, you mean the world to me.

Do not think I play any trick,

And don’t fill your heart with jealousy

Never a girl other than you do I see.

STORIES, VIEWS AND OPINIONS

Woeful Plight of a Man: Oh, the Screaming and Shouting!

October 9, 2013 Ramu Das 4 Comments

At your tender age your parents and elders (who consider themselves grownups, and who rightly are) scream and shout at you for the tiniest of faults they find in you. They are at liberty to do so, and at times their screaming and shouting do make sense, however, at other times they simply don’t.

But most of the times, all they tend to do is nothing but exaggerate every little mistake you make, and at other times, they blame you for something that is not your fault at all, and as a consequence you, who are the victim, suffer the consequence, as victims always suffer consequences. You have the impulse to do something different, yet you hesitate to do any such thing, for you know you will be condemned for anything contrary to your elders wish. Their wishes are law for you. You learn to suppress your feelings, for if you do not you might as well be bulldozed by the ones capable of bulldozing you. You accept, though not at all inclined to accept, that the fault is yours.

Your parents send you to school, and then, as you grow older, seeing you willing to learn more, they send you to college, and in such a place your teachers not only teach you by sweet words, but also by screaming and shouting if need be. Question their methods and chances are you will be thrown out of the classroom.

You complain you don’t like the education system; you say you don’t want to learn like a parrot, but would prefer to think out of the box; you complain your betel-nut chewing lecturers are incompetent and that they don’t know or understand what they teach, and so on and so forth your complaints are never-ending, but to such complaints not a soul pays heed, because you complain to yourself, a monologue that is. You keep everything within you. You don’t want to be rusticated. Your parents are poor; they can’t afford to send to you to some Ivy League institutes. They are doing their best, they can’t do any better. Take it or leave it. Something is better than nothing, you take it.

Amidst the screaming and shouting you have now become an able-bodied young man. You think you need to earn money, you want to be independent and do something. You want your parents to be proud of you, you want to see them smiling. It is not just money that you care about, you want respect. Your parents have told you if you don’t study and do well in your exams you will not get a good job, or money, or respect. Your teachers have done their job and made you job-ready, they told you learn only to earn, but you didn’t quite agree, yet you agreed anyway.

Finally, you got a job. Though you didn’t get it easily, but your hardship is known only to you. Unknown phone numbers flash on your cell phone, the owners of such numbers claim to be your relatives, you don’t know if they really are, but not to be disrespectful you speak with them and be as polite as you can. They congratulate you for all your successes before finally coming to the point: they want money, and if possible accommodation with you in your flat, for they have made up their mind to move to the city where now you live. They fancied living in the city you live in, and doing things people in the city do, but due to the absence of a relative like yourself they had to put a halt to all their fancies. But, here you are, a messiah to your folk.

At office, your boss let you overwork, but pay nothing for the extra work done. Your boss is concerned about one thing and one thing only: revenue! That boss of yours is the most shrewd and selfish man you have ever come across. He is one brute of a man.

You slog and never raise your voice for things you don’t like, for such a rash act on your part will mean that you lose your job. You don’t want to lose this job. You need money for survival and, mind you, you have more mouth than one to feed. Jobs are not in plentiful in the market. No; you can’t risk losing your job. So you stay mum, and allow all your bosses, for you have more than one, to scream and shout at you for more numbers, for more revenue. Don’t achieve your targets (numbers) and your bosses, all of them, will bully you.

The job you do is not an easy job by any means. Job for a common man like you will never be easy; the easy jobs are reserved for different section of the society. Knowing the fact fully well you don’t grumble at the any of the inconveniences you face every day.

You are married. Your wife is beautiful. Yours was an arrange marriage, your parents fixed it for you; love marriage was not a kind of thing you ever succeeded at; don’t forget, every time you proposed to a girl, you always took no for an answer. You are such a man that no girl understood your feelings, or cared for you even a little. But, your beautiful wife cares for you and you are happy for the same, and you care for her. You truly love each other.

You fathered two children: Lion, you named your son, and Tigress, you called your daughter. Though, you could call them by different names, but being an animal lover you preferred the two names, at least you call them so at home. You do everything for Lion and Tigress, but as they grow in proportion of body, they taunt you for the lack of something or the other, and like the wild lion and tigress of the jungle they throw tantrums at you. You regret naming them Lion and Tigress.

You start aging. You have worked for 40 years. Your hair becomes partially grey, then white. You are not as agile as you were. You have put on weight; your children, when they pay you an occasional visit once a year or twice a year, complain that you are too healthy and you are slow and clumsy.

You want to enjoy retirement, alas, you being you can never enjoy; your life is meant for hurdles. Not a penny do your children give you; in your lifetime you never saved a penny, of course, circumstances never allowed you to save any. Your only saving grace is the money that comes from you pension fund.

The old man at the table (Photo credit: arartplatform)

Your wife left the world. Now, you wait; wait for perfect time to leave everything behind, escape the screaming and shouting, go away, far away from the maddening crowd. You want to fall asleep, not an ordinary sleep this time, but a sleep from which you never wish to awake.