Little things do matter

I was stuck in the middle of a jam packed bus, inching forward in the crowd, trying to find a place in the bus to atleast stand a little comfortably.

Fortunately, next to where I half stood, a slightly plump lady, with mehendi brown, neatly tied hair, in a salwar kameez (strongly reminded me of my hindi teacher) got up.

Relieved, I pushed my way to her seat and sat down. Though much much better than half-standing, sitting in a Mulund bound bus passing through Saki Naka - is not as comfortable as you might imagine. I was still squeezed in between a sari-clad lady who along with herself had also placed her thin undernourished son (may be around 5 yrs old) on the seat - and a fat lady holding a large purse standing on my left. She was standing facing me and the window, ready to pounce on my seat the moment I got up. She kept leaning on me for support, backing off a little when I looked up and glared at her. The corner of her square, brown, leather purse kept jabbing at my cheeks - or my neck if I shifted a little to avoid it. Hot air blew in through the window mixed with dust and exhausts from all the other vehicles on the road.

It was going to take atleast 45 minutes more to reach Saki Naka, where I work. So I took out a book of CAT problems (Quantitative Ability - Numbers - my favourite chapter). With only a month to go for CAT, I stand little chance of cracking it; still thinking over these problems is a nice way of keeping your mind engaged. Otherwise such miserable conditions induce your mind to collect all the negative thoughts in your head and replay them again and again, till you are drained of all energy and will power to survive the rest of the day.

But today, as I tried to study with one hand on my book and the other trying to shield me from the purse, I found it impossible to concentrate. Instead I found myself following the pattern of little squares and circles on the brown bag that kept coming alternatively closer and further from my eyes. It made me feel drowsy. A nice start for the day. :(

I looked up, to take my eyes off the bag – an old, thin, weak looking lady was standing now a little ahead of my seat, clutching at a vertical rod with both hands. She must have been around seventy years old. I didn’t see her coming. She was not very noticeable. Short, thin, and the kind of person who tried her best not to disturb anyone or come in their way. Her face was pale, dry, shriveled skin wrapped over her thin facial structure. It made her eyes look big. Those were tired eyes, looking here and there hoping for a place to sit. They wore a resigned look, which said she had accepted long ago that she had to suffer, without any help. She had to bear with it, however unbearable.. She had no choice.

Now in one of your short distance buses most people would promptly get up and offer her their seat. After all she was old and we are supposed to be sensitive and respect our elders. But it is in longer distance buses like this one that these values are really put to test. When faced with the prospect of standing, being pushed and dragged about for more than an hour, such values are usually held aside for the time being.

My immediate reaction on seeing her, was to look down again into my book as if I had not seen her at all. A voice spoke in my head. You ought to give her your seat you know!

I looked up again. Nah! She’ll manage.

Voice: Obviously she’ll manage better if she gets to sit.
Me: Oh come on! Not my problem.
Voice: Wouldn’t you have wanted someone to offer a seat if you were not
well?
Me: So why me? Someone else can do it too. Look at all those losers. They
don’t even care.
Voice: You are one of them.
Me: I have to study see?
Voice: I know how much you’ve been studying.
Me: Still, I have to try at least.
Voice: Fine then. But spend the rest of the day hating yourself for being so
heartless.

That last thought was too much for me to handle. I packed my book back into my bag, looked up and tapped the old lady on her shoulders. “Aunty, you want to sit?”

So for the rest of the journey I stood. Some of the older ladies gave me an appreciating look. One of them even offered to hold my bag.

It was actually a good feeling. For some reason it was not so difficult to stand anymore. I know I didn’t make a big difference to her life as a whole. I didn’t do anything great for the betterment of humanity in general. But atleast for one day, for the moment, I made life easier for that one person. And ……. I don’t know! It felt good. :)

And I remembered something my class teacher, Prabha Ma’am had taught me in school years ago in a value education class,

“Never let your conscience be silenced. For any reason whatsoever. Then you can be rest assured that whatever you are doing is right. Because your conscience always knows.”