Yes’day, I was interviewing one guy, I forgot his name. His father was a doctor, his mother was a doctor. His elder sister was a doctor. And he didn’t apply for MBA, coz, he was repaying the loan for his sister for the past 2 years. He had brilliant record, call from B and but he was geeky. Too nerdy.
Too techie, his OS was free, so were his apps. He had got his SOP in that tiny acer thingy.
He was born n brought up in Bihar and what he said, about Bihar shocked me to the core. He said, he wanted to help his doctor parents and spread the awareness of snake bites etc. After seeing endless episodes on the most fascinating snakes, include king cobras copulating, I knew that most snake bites were not poisonous, something, that led me to walk anywhere without bothering too much while my friends used to fear a lot. I would always ask them, what is the probability of snake biting, and even if it did, what is the probability of it being poisonous. Even otherwise, you could always put a knot and get a ride till the hospital. I had seen 2 black snakes crushed to death on the road, very small baby snakes in the campus. For me snakes were Amba. My dreams are snake infested. And my snake dreams are scary always.
So coming back to him, he said, snake bites at times lead to paralysis and hemorrhage. In his place, there were so many quacks who had political backing. Whenever people got bitten by snakes, the quacks would treat the un poisonous bites but the really poisonous bites would coz so many deaths. Usually it would be too late, when the patients after trying the quack came to the hospital.
He said, there was not a single electronics instrument in his house that was not vandalized. The quacks’ supporters would come to his house and break up everything, so many times it seems. Oh man, I was shocked. He wanted to do something for the society, he was too much into social service and he was a technical god, but the sad state of affairs in Bihar, hurt my throat.
This morning, our macro eco, prof was telling us about Fiscal policy and the associated lags. He was saying, how when the rich people got happy or when the business sentiments were positive, they would go out for a treat and how when the poor people became happy, they went for a cup of tea. He was talking about sachet teas and shampoos. And suddenly, my throat started hurting. Every time, on the way to the railway station, memories keep coming back, making me feel so bad inside. I still remember the time, when I went home for Diwali. I was on the way to Egmore and there was this old lady, collapsed and crumpled on the pavement, with dirty ragged clothes, shriveled and bony. It was Diwali eve and she was still begging. Of course, begging is an organized business in India, never the less, to think, an old lady had to face such a life, shocked me, pained me.
This time, again, when I was there in AC Volvo on the way to majestic, there was this leper lady next to some car showroom, leaning with great difficulty to crush one of the 2 beedas she had, since she had no teeth. I remembered the bony thin old lady who came to deliver food for KV school kids, who said, a beeda was her lunch breakfast and dinner. How many people are below the poverty line and here people go for treat and spend 5k for 20 ppl for one dinner. Ask them to give something for yoga classes, they would not. All easier said than done.
My face is so expressive. If am happy, the whole world knows it. Everyone in office would always know, the Fridays I go home. If am sad, same thing. My father just reads my face like anything, that I can never lie to him. He will know by my voice. I still remember the pus filled leper on the way to isanya lingam in thiruvannamalai. We were on the last lap of the 18 km girivalam. I saw him, and I felt so bad, I felt disgusted to tell the truth. It was around 7 am and I was still walking. He saw my face and thought I was laughing. He said, “Enna sirikiriya papa. Paar un seer alinju poiyirum”. I didn’t actually laugh at him, come on, how could any one laugh at him? I was feeling so bad, I felt saddened by the state a human body was reduced to with leprosy and pus oozing out. It was so hot and he was lying on the hot sun.
There was a time when I went to Tnagar to shop. Same old Ranganathan street. Just near the busstop, there was this guy, young one, without limbs, quadriplegic. It was so hot. He was there bare bodied, with saliva dribbling down, with his begging bowl next to him. I passed him and after a while, I completely forgot him, in the shopping spree. Only later that night, that image taunted me. Even now it does. The begging organization in tnagar was cruel enough to put him like that under scorching sun after having chopped off his limbs as well.
The next aug 11, I had my car accident, that took away 18 months of my life. I think at times, was it coz of that thiruvanamalai lepers curse? Many a times, I wonder, I always stop with my thoughts, no action. My throat hurts, instead of offering someone support, I too start crying with their pain. I went just once to the gals orphan house. God, am glad, I have my parents to take care of me. I had to really control myself and not let the tears fall down in the macro eco class, thinking that there are people for whom tea is a luxury.
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