What color is your soul? Sorry, perhaps I am not the appropriate person to be asked such questions…. Why? Simply because…… oops! I miss a soul!!! I don’t have any or might be, it is too fragile, glass like transparent – easy for anyone to see through and delicate enough for a harsh truth to smash into pieces. There are possibilities that my soul is black. A shade which is no color, just neutral. It makes us realize how light a color is before the charcoal and graphite color….. A color that absorbs all wavelengths but reflects none. There have been several influential books that I have read, countless inspirational thoughts that have traveled through my neurons and have been absorbed into the brain but, have rarely surfaced my persona. Why I could never show signs of human enthusiasm and zeal, is a big question mark. And, what havoc it can call upon when cowardice meets a series of sheer bad luck? …Nothing more than a fateful Friday as today.
Act I: Scene 1: Hostel room: The day begins with a self realization that a trifle assignment has been sidelined for about a week and today is the date of submission. It being a trivial problem, major challenge says that I have to take a bath in this chilling winter morning and still manage to complete my task. Now, I poke one finger out, weigh the cold environment and force myself to make it to the switch board. The net connection wire has turned loose and doesn’t fit into the port and I have to hold it tight. As soon as I enter the password, my alarm clock screams and the display message on monitor reads, “ Its 6 AM.You cant log-in. Its not your time-slot”…..quite a mesmerizing day.. isn’t it?
Act II : Scene 1: College library- Our machinery classes are taking place (so to say….) with no faculty around. Its like a herd of cattle in a paddy field. The library sickness is taking its toll on me and I feel like throwing up. I award myself with a break, gift a cup of coffee to my hands ….aahaa...what a relief… however, the next moment, I am found throwing a cup full of coffee in the dustbin and rushing upstairs. Faculty is already there with a cunning smile on her face which gradually changes into serenity as she finds her sadistic pleasure in marking me absent for the session.
Act II: Scene 2: Nescafe counter- “Bhaiya, jaldi se ek frappe de do…. Madam, nahi hai”; “o.k. to ek iced tea de do…. Madam, khatm ho gaya”…..grreeeaaattttt….. about five minutes before, I succeeded to miss the last samosa in the canteen and the trend still continues….
Act III: Scene 1: Mobile recharge shop: I am very particular about my mobile recharges. I always get a recharge of Rs 70 which gives me a talktime of Rs 60. Its so economical. But, I cant understand what made that recharge waala guy infer that I am so fool as to get a Rs 60 recharge done which leaves me with a talktime of Rs 38 only. I want to shout… I want to scold but what difference will it make to him. He cant reverse the whole process.
Act III: Scene 2: Aggarwal’s sweets: This is my favourite eat-out. The South Indian dishes served here..specially, vadaa sambhar, dosa that too with the coconut chutney…are just yummy...(unless you eat them J). The waiter comes to take the order. I am just on the verge of losing patience. I ask him to bring vada sambhar but to my utter disappointment, they are running short of it. Now, when I am losing it completely, I dare to look into the waiter’s eyes. He is in his mid forties and doesn’t look like a waiter. At this moment, I can see my father serving in his place. I don’t like this. I can’t take it more. I cant allow him to clean my table and carry my dishes. I won’t let him do that. But, what will the other people say? Am I trying to show my respect or simply trying to impress the guy on the next table. Who am I to do so? Why should I do it? ….. “madam, here is your bill.” The dishes are gone. The table is clean. I have lost my opportunity. Thanks to my weak soul.
Epilogue: Friends, I have read a book “The Kite Runner” by Khalid Houseini. It’s about a boy Aamir who is born in a rich family and is blessed with a brave father. His heart yearns to be with his father but he can feel the chasm between him and father. His only friend is Hassan, his servant who loves Aamir more than he loves anything. But, Aamir, a boy of a weak character can’t gather courage to save Hassan from being a victim of sexual assault by three guys. It’s a curse to be born with a weak soul and even if it is so…. One must never forget….
“There is one thing one has to have: either a soul that is cheerful by nature, or a soul made cheerful by work, love, art, and knowledge.”
Curtain down
Act I: Scene 1: Hostel room: The day begins with a self realization that a trifle assignment has been sidelined for about a week and today is the date of submission. It being a trivial problem, major challenge says that I have to take a bath in this chilling winter morning and still manage to complete my task. Now, I poke one finger out, weigh the cold environment and force myself to make it to the switch board. The net connection wire has turned loose and doesn’t fit into the port and I have to hold it tight. As soon as I enter the password, my alarm clock screams and the display message on monitor reads, “ Its 6 AM.You cant log-in. Its not your time-slot”…..quite a mesmerizing day.. isn’t it?
Act II : Scene 1: College library- Our machinery classes are taking place (so to say….) with no faculty around. Its like a herd of cattle in a paddy field. The library sickness is taking its toll on me and I feel like throwing up. I award myself with a break, gift a cup of coffee to my hands ….aahaa...what a relief… however, the next moment, I am found throwing a cup full of coffee in the dustbin and rushing upstairs. Faculty is already there with a cunning smile on her face which gradually changes into serenity as she finds her sadistic pleasure in marking me absent for the session.
Act II: Scene 2: Nescafe counter- “Bhaiya, jaldi se ek frappe de do…. Madam, nahi hai”; “o.k. to ek iced tea de do…. Madam, khatm ho gaya”…..grreeeaaattttt….. about five minutes before, I succeeded to miss the last samosa in the canteen and the trend still continues….
Act III: Scene 1: Mobile recharge shop: I am very particular about my mobile recharges. I always get a recharge of Rs 70 which gives me a talktime of Rs 60. Its so economical. But, I cant understand what made that recharge waala guy infer that I am so fool as to get a Rs 60 recharge done which leaves me with a talktime of Rs 38 only. I want to shout… I want to scold but what difference will it make to him. He cant reverse the whole process.
Act III: Scene 2: Aggarwal’s sweets: This is my favourite eat-out. The South Indian dishes served here..specially, vadaa sambhar, dosa that too with the coconut chutney…are just yummy...(unless you eat them J). The waiter comes to take the order. I am just on the verge of losing patience. I ask him to bring vada sambhar but to my utter disappointment, they are running short of it. Now, when I am losing it completely, I dare to look into the waiter’s eyes. He is in his mid forties and doesn’t look like a waiter. At this moment, I can see my father serving in his place. I don’t like this. I can’t take it more. I cant allow him to clean my table and carry my dishes. I won’t let him do that. But, what will the other people say? Am I trying to show my respect or simply trying to impress the guy on the next table. Who am I to do so? Why should I do it? ….. “madam, here is your bill.” The dishes are gone. The table is clean. I have lost my opportunity. Thanks to my weak soul.
Epilogue: Friends, I have read a book “The Kite Runner” by Khalid Houseini. It’s about a boy Aamir who is born in a rich family and is blessed with a brave father. His heart yearns to be with his father but he can feel the chasm between him and father. His only friend is Hassan, his servant who loves Aamir more than he loves anything. But, Aamir, a boy of a weak character can’t gather courage to save Hassan from being a victim of sexual assault by three guys. It’s a curse to be born with a weak soul and even if it is so…. One must never forget….
“There is one thing one has to have: either a soul that is cheerful by nature, or a soul made cheerful by work, love, art, and knowledge.”
Curtain down
6 comments:
a gr8 piece indeed..........dunno much bout literature but still can feel d whole content.......
it really made me sit n read till d end......though m a restless fella....guess it says all bout the work.........
keep it up....
Firstly, a brilliant post...as you know arpita, i never read blogs n all...but i did read this one...fully...n i must admit, that my eyes went moist when i read that waiter-father thing...now my opinion...
“Permanence, perseverance and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragement, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak”
What makes a soul strong??? Why do i say that my soul is weak, n Adolf Hitler's is strong? the fact of the matter is, NO SOUL IS BORN STRONG, YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT STRONG. Hell may care if the people around you feel you are impressing the guy on the nest table. 'Coz you know Arpita that YOU ARE BLOODY NOT DOING THAT!!! If you felt that you should have cleaned the table, you should have done it. Seriously dont care so much about the world that you lose yur own identity. Ana build your soul into a strong dragon, that has no fear. And since i know you so well, i know you can sis!!! :)
Hey Shaz......thanx for ur beautiful comment. I really liked ur thoughts but at the same time, i wud also like to make it clear that though the wrk was inspired by my daily life...it wasnt the whole truth...it was just a piece of my imagination.......
nice post, brilliant language, tightly knit base and a very commendable presentation.
now some real comments.
Arpita, whether u accept this or not, this is not a work of fiction.We write something, and even its a fiction bout other person's life, our thinking does get reflected... and as far as this post is concerned, well, u have written bout ur own thoughts, and its very difficult to write something what u are actually not thinking, coz our mind sub consciously does direct our hands....
as for the content, well, ur thinking seems very genuine to me. But ur conclusion is wrong. Ppl like u don't have weak soul. They have caring souls.
lemme justify this.When u saw tht waiter, u took pity on his age and sub consciously thought tht as he was of ur father's age, so he ought not be taking off the left overs and do the dirty cleaning work. This shows two things.
1.U hv a caring attitude towards ur elders, even he/she may be a total stranger.
2.U love ur father very much, and can't see him in any kind of trouble.
lemme continue wid my justifications bout ur caring soul.When u wonder whether ppl are thinking tht u r acting tht way in order to impress the guy in front of u, well, u r subconsciously caring about urself, and ur image in public.It is for sure tht u hav not got the much hyped 'i don't care approach'. U have rather got an ' i do care one.'
and who says that the latter one is bad?
and as for the other misfortunate events, well, they can happen to anyone... like to the one who wud be going to tht same canteen just after u left.Now things can't be generalised...
so, basically, u see, u are nowhere around a weak soul when u say tht u care and think twice before taking an action. Important thing is tht all ur steps should be sensible and well judged and each course of judgement has its own share of time... yes, one thing i wud like to tell u. As shashank, oh yes, 'gurubhai' pointed out, you should not be thinking what other ppl think about u when u do a particular thing, which u think is well judged and well justified. That would help u to believe tht u have got a strong soul.
but does it matter anyway? weak or strong, colourful or black and white,caring or non caring...its ur soul, ur personality, ur thoughts,ur judgements...to sum it all,its YOU.
and who are others to judge you.and who are others to tell u tht u have a weak or strong soul...give a f#@k to anyone who makes u feel small and if its your own mentality tht says tht u acted weak, or have a weak soul, f#@k it, too.
AFTER ALL, ITS UR SOUL,WASSAY?
p.s. apology intended for the f-word.
A very good write up,the stucture, the flow and the content. God, You are a prose person i told you:)
AS of your dillema about the person of your father's age doing menial work and you not liking it -I have to say that you felt bad becuase you regarded that work as menial, Duniya mein koi kaam chota nahi hota, aur kaam karne se koi chota nahi hota. Understand this, you will see you have your answer. Its baout how happy the waiter is doing that work ,is he satisfied, can he support his family? are the real questions to put forth.
this isn't the first time i'm reading something you've written... but this certainly made me regret why didn't i read more of them... expressed with an honesty that's rare to find... not something a weak soul would attempt... people who don't react bluntly are not weak... they just care a litle more than others... and that's a trait you should be proud of...
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