The philosophy of problems

This is not a discourse on “steps to success”. Nor, is this write up intended to be one of the bombarding personality development sessions. It is merely an expression of my troubled thoughts and ambiguous living that seemed to end in an unexpected manner.
I feel God has given me the largest number of choices to be angry about. If am to list out “Things that make me angry “am bound to be a contest winner.
Every thing in this world seems to be a problem to me. Right from the alarm that rings in the morning to the noisy crickets at night, all are problematic!
As my daily chores begin, I realize my impatience brimming out of me----My books are never in place. Nothing of my favorites is for break fast; my vehicle never starts before making noise and drawing the frowns of my neighbors. In class, teacher glares at me, for opening my mouth. Curd rice for lunch supervenes my furious mood…this way; my day never seems to end. Tons of homework, exams, gossips, friends…At the end, my day seems to be busy and tiring but never full. These, so called trivialities seemed to undermine my potential until one day dawned….
That day everything seemed to have changed…
My books were on the table…just that I had to put them in my bag
My vehicle did not start-I thanked God… I would, save petrol by bus…
My Teacher glared at me, this time I had a companion-my friend. I was happy I shall not be alone if I was thrown out.
Brinjal -the distasteful curry for lunch-just then my friend yelled “wow! Brinjal! ”-that day sandwich was my treat
This way, things suddenly seemed to fall in place. The sun was no brighter, but the day was. I seemed to get out of my doldrums…
How could it? … Somewhere deep inside I had an answer...

What had happened?

It was 31 December --the night before this beautiful day had dawned, my friend and I were having an evening stroll.Too bored to celebrate the pompous New Year, we decided to give the year a short adieu.
It is necessary that the reader must be introduced to my friend first.She is a small ,dark girl.Her father’s is a clerical job.She is studying in a regional governement college.She is not a very bright student,but has a flare for painting and colours.She loves food,dance,friends ,movies gossips..Wait. I think she almost loves everything she does.
Coming back to where we started.we were taking a stroll, when we came across two urchins who were playing the good old “train, train “game, holding each other’s sleeve and running in a circle.
Looking at them I sympathetically commented” I wish I could give them all my toys to play.They would have been so happy” My friend cut me off saying “ I bet you cannot make them more happy” she paused,looked at me and continued “what makes you think they are not happy?” .I shrugged and kept quiet, though a little disturbed. As we moved along, we came across our house maid’s hut.In dim lit light,she was cooking food and chatting with her nighbour.When we passed by,she shyly smiled at us,smiling back at her I said to my friend” Poor soul! How hard she works, working at houses, cooking food for children, no hygenic food” as I was about to go on, my friend took the lead “she hardly needs your sympathy dear!I think she is enjoying what she is doing.well,I suppose that is why she is living” she answered sarcastically.

This time evidently embarrassed, I defiantly asked her”what’s your problem?”
To this, my friend loudly chuckled and asked back” I should ask you that-what is your problem?”
Inadvertently came my reply “you are mocking me! Everything I say seems to be a problem to you”
Mockingly she said” He! He! Is it you who is saying this? You seem to have a problem about everything in life-right from your alarm clock to the stuff you are made off!”

I was appalled.I never expected the serious tone from her.She didn’t stop and continued” You have a problem with everything Neha.Your books are a problem to you,your bike is a problem,your lunch is a problem.The whole world is a problem to you.Infact,this word problem is a big problem to you!”

“Why, is problem not a problem to you” I questioned fighting back my tears.

“No” she replied calmly.”Problem has never been one to me.To put it this way, I never look at problems, I deal with them”

Uh!! It was a jolt to me! I needed an explanation.she guessed it and continued…” Neha, if we were to think problems as problems,we could have not managed to have lived this long.If you are one person having one problem,there are millions out there fighting with millions of problems.Believe me,you are not alone.” The ball was still in her court, she continued, “Have you ever heard of the word TAKE IT EASY?” It was a mockery again.I shrugged looking down and continued walking.

“Take life easily Neha.Anything that comes to you is short lived.You really don’t have to somersault,take it ,crush it,and grumble about it.There are a few things in this life ,which you should just let go”

My ego was still burning.I simply listened to her.

”Look at me.I am short, and dark.I go to a government college,I slog,I sleep late.I take care of my grand mother.I wanted a bike since 12th class,so far I have not bought it.I have no new dress,for the festival.If I and you were to compete auctioning our problems.I bet,I will win!”

It was a jerk!! I stared at her.she didn’t have to be so hard on herself! I tried to put the same in words, but she stopped me and continued” But I do not look at things that way! I am happy that I have loving family.I am happy that I am educated, though not a rank student.And am proud that I paint well, which makes me happy again.Don’t you see, it’s so easy to look the other way round?”

I smiled back at her, and she returned it back with a much brighter one!When we reached my home,we stood at the door steps.There was a minute’s silence.As though ,coming out of some far world ,my friend said “ Well,Time to go!good night”
Smiling I said “Hey! I think I will give the loudest bonvoyage to this old year-with loads of problems, worries and complaints”
She took a minute to understand, then chucked aloud and said” he…he…Right! Go ahead! Good night”
We bid, hugged and parted for the night.
As I was getting inside the house, my thoughts ran “I have been with her for 15 years now, why did she tell this to me today? Why did I talk about my maid today? About the children? May be it is called providence.. the just time to change”

Anyway the bottom line is: My new year,I was sure,was going to rock!”

Bachelors of Arts

I always face queer reactions and responses when I answer- “I have done my honors in BA”---
“Why BA? Why didn’t you take up science or commerce?”
“Oh I suppose you got less in intermediate!”
“Hmmm depends on intelligence...”Or they simply shriek” what? BA?”
Apart from creating anger and embarrassment, these reactions lead me to persistent questions like “what is wrong in doing a BA?” “Is Arts not a subject of study?”
I decided to probe for answers.
Asking a few friends and acquaintances I have come to understand that many misconceptions have been reared about arts since these past few decades—
“That art are very easy… That only less intelligentsia take up the course…and that they are irrelevant to the present”

It is piquing to accept these misconceptions (as art students) when we know it is so untrue.
The difference in the degree of prominence between arts and other disciplines is due to the change of emphasis in our thoughts, needs and social demands. While science and commerce disciplines cater more to livelihood, the Arts discipline is richer by a degree as it caters to life itself. Today Science and commerce rein the world and Arts has become ancillary. Amidst these gigantic disciplines, students competing against each other to grab engineering and medical seats, it’s natural to awe at a student who decides to pursue arts as a career.

“Why in the world has a student taken up Arts besides these competitive subjects?” is an imminent question!! In this write up, I endeavor to answer this question” why Arts?”

Arts are taken up for the sake of it. Picasso said” Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth”
Arts are the unique disciplines of knowledge that teach us life. They are called humanities as they deal with the basics of human nature and life. They deal with those subjects that can be implemented in all walks of life.
Literature, Economics, sociology, History, Psychology etc, they may not assure us an affluent life but they ensure our success as a full fledged human being. Each subject is a revelation of reality.
In literature, we are introduced to vast knowledge of life and its nature. Through the poems, novels and dramas we learn lessons through others experiences and expressions.
We read life and not just books!!
When we read Tennyson’s Ulysses we learn the importance of life, Tagore’s “where the mind is without fear” we learn to dream for a utopian world, Kalidasa’s ‘Abhignana shakuntala’ we learn the beauty of love and affection.

History introduces us to our rich tradition and culture. We learn the greatness of man through the large civilizations, the empires he built the conquers he made. We learn that to live we should strive. We learn the past and its impact on present. We understand the differences that caused change. We read History simply because History repeats.

While Psychology is the scientific study of Human behavior, sociology is the study of man as a social being. Economics, the pivot on which the whole world is balanced and Journalism equips us for effective communication.

Every subject is an art in itself. We must learn to enjoy life and art enables us to do so. It teaches us to look at life in a different perspective. Only a selected few who have the inclination for aesthetics can pursue Arts. Arts require patience and practice. I have taken up Arts by choice and not by chance---Just for the love of it!
It’s not important as to which stream you choose. All that matters is how you perform. Our excellence depends on our ability and not on the course we select.
If I echo the sentiments of Robert Frost and say” I chose the road not taken and that has made all the difference”

My short term job

“Ooo…la” I shrieked as I clicked down the phone after answering my uncle’s call. “At last my boring mornings and lengthy afternoons are going to come to an end” I thought. My uncle had at last had searched a job for me. Sitting idle for 6 months with an MBA degree in hand was unimaginable. Though I was shifting to New York along with fiancée, it would be impossible to spend my days dreaming about my rosy future for the next 6 months. I had to do something. But which company would give a job for six months. So the search had become a little difficult. Nevertheless my uncle made it. He had kept the ‘job opening’ as a surprise and said would tell me in person. So on Sunday we invited him for lunch.
“So uncle, what job have you searched for me?” I asked eagerly, as we sat at the lunch table.” You will be very happy to know, and excited to work” he said” It’s a teacher’s job” .Resting his gaze on me he continued “at an orphanage” My mother’s was the first reaction” what will she do their Ramu” she chuckled. “Sangha sevaki preethi!” My brother said and gave a short laugh .My father frowned at him and there was silence.
It took me sometime to come out of the jerk. All my enthusiasm drained out I asked” Ramu mama, is this job suitable for an MBA graduate?”
From the day my search for my short term job had begun, I had chalked out the most suitable and convenient jobs for me. I had dreamt to sit in a call centre and talk in a foreign accent-I thought it would make my life easier in New York.
Had hoped, I shall become a short term Research Assistant, and help my boss come out with a thesis. A consultant job would not be bad, I thought. At least a personal secretary job in a leading firm would do.
I know I was demanding too much. But tell me, do dreams have an end and greed a limit? My retrospection ended and I came back to the present .All were looking at my uncle .He had begun to speak” what do you think? It’s a right job for any and every human being” he emphasized. I opened my mouth to defend, but he disapproved it with a wave of hand and continued” Before you’re an MBA graduate, you are a human being. And helping a person to mould into a better human being is the greatest job you can ever do “At this point my father looked at me, as though he was reading my mind. As an approval to his guess I said” But mama, what will I teach them? Marketing? Finance? Stats?” I laughed within myself.
“That’s up to you” my uncle began. “You teach them anything. The authorities of the orphanage had requested me to find a volunteer who can spend time at their school and groom their children. I thought you would be interested. If you’re not, then forget it. We will search for another job, where you will know what to do” This time his voice was grim. Silence enveloped the scene and all were waiting for my answer. Not to dishearten my uncle and break my father’s IDEALISTIC DAUGHTER image, I resolved to take it as an experience albeit resenting this queer venture.

The first day of my job dawned. All through the way to the orphanage with my uncle, I was enveloped in thoughts and doubts…”what shall I talk to them? What can I teach them? Would they know English? How do I react?
My introspection halted as we reached the destination. We were greeted by madam shyamala. After a little tête-à-tête, I was briefed about the children at orphanage. There, we were told, children ranged across various ages. From 5 to 15.They were either abandoned by their relatives or were born orphans. So dramatic was her narration, that I actually imagined all the children sitting in a room and brooding over their lives.
Quite contrary to my imagination, as I entered the hall, the gossiping and murmuring stopped .All the children got up and greeted me in one tone” Good morning teacher” Madame shyamala who was standing beside me whispered “They were expecting you” I nodded back and gestured the children to sit. When she left, I still had no clue as to what to speak. The children as madam shyamala had noted ranged from kids to teenagers-Tanned skins, oiled hair, cleanly washed faded clothes-these were my first observations. As I was still contemplating on what to speak, a girl from the group asked “didi, what is your name?” Surprised and quite pleased by her uninhibited gesture, I replied “preethi” and asked back “what yours?” “Kamala” came the reply. When I smiled and nodded to her, a boy from the group shot “won’t you ask my name?” This time truly surprised by his demand, I giggled and asked his name. ”Raja” he said proudly. At this point an unexpected commotion began in the group- voices shouting “didi I will tell my name” “ mine too” “pinky” “hey you stop, I will tell first”” No me”
Unexpecting this, my reflexes took the lead.” Hey stop! Stop! Well if you don’t I shall not give you chocolates tomorrow” I didn’t expect to say this. I gave a gap, and the unrest rested. I continued” yes, I am planning to get you all 100 chocolates! If you keep quite I will get them. Do you like them?” “Yes!” they shouted. Smiling, I thought my first class has thus begun.
The next hours of the class were spent in introductions, warnings, giggles...
When I went back home in the evening questions were ready to attack me. ”How was it?” “Were they naughty?” “What did you teach them?” To all I gave one answer” It was good. I enjoyed it”
As I was retiring to bed, thoughts ran across my mind. I had meant the word “enjoy” more than it signified. What was it? That word...satis...Groping for the word, I stepped into sleep.

My consequent classes seemed to get on fast and short. I had begun to feel at home here. My day started with a heart full good morning from the children. Most of my time at home was spent in making color charts, dolls, recollecting grandma stories and taking suggestions from my mom.
I no more had to think on what to teach them. They implicitly told me what they had to learn-Their behavior was to be disciplined, their minds had to be directed, their language had to be modified, their hygiene had to be rechecked. On the whole they had to be ‘tailored’.

I began to learn their names by heart. I began to understand what made them happy and what made them cry.
Surprisingly they were never a bore to me. Their uninhibited behaviors, untainted expressions, intimate demands pulled me nearer to them. I began seeing a new identity in me. The one which I never knew had existed.
I used to talk to them hours together. Tell them about the stars in the sky, the fishes in the water, the demons and the Gods.
While the teenagers shared with me their untold desires, the kiddos talked about their untold ideas. I listened to both of them and was discrete enough to react to both.
This new identity that I began to own, was different from the others which I had already owned-daughter, sister, friend, partner. This one was called ‘preethi’. I never had to pretend in front of them. No norms or rules. Just being myself -preethi
My classes were no one way teaching. It was a two way. While I taught them what to do for their living. They taught me how to live.
There was inextinguishable energy in them. Their power to smile under all situations made them superior to me. They had no regrets. They did things because they wanted to.
To them taste didn’t matter, but food did. Clothes didn’t matter but clothing did. Beauty didn’t matter but affection did. With I had learnt t live a life that I had never lived.

When the time had come to leave, I wished I had never come here. For I never knew parting from loved ones would mean so much pain. Through the tears of each child I could see the reflection of my own sorrow. ”Didi when will you come back?” one asked. Before I could answer “you will come back na? Why are you crying then?” Said other. I had no answer for either of them. The only reply I managed to give them was a hug.
As I drove back home, my thoughts were running fast “Job. That is what I had wanted. A job that was suitable for an MBA graduate. I taught them nothing I had learnt. Rather I had learnt what I had unlearned”