Compromise is not a struggle

 Compromise is not a struggle

Once while I was sitting at bus-stop waiting for a bus, and suddenly a man around sixty-four or sixty five years old came by and sat beside me. Honestly, he was well-suited than me. I was just watching him. He was wearing a perfectly ironed shirt and pant and nicely polished shoes. I presumed that he might be a high profile government officer. 

I plugged out my earphone from my mobile and put it into my bag, while I realized that the man was watching me. As I glanced at him awkwardly, he smiled politely. Even his smile seemed too much professional.

“Young lad! College boy?” he asked.

“Yes,” I nodded, ignoring a strange conversation.

“Must have drowned yourself in fun and enjoyment,” he said.

“Not actually,” I shook my head. “I don’t do fun.”

“Pity then. You should,” he grumbled. He paused for a moment and then asked, “So what do you study?”

“Computer science,” I replied bluntly. 

“Tech people,” he sighed. “I really admire you people, but I curse you at the same time.”

Undoubtedly, I was surprised by that sentence. Why would an old man like him curse people like me? 

“Why is that?” I asked curiously.

“When I was like you, perhaps bit older than you, I was working in a private company. We used to make metal components of vehicles and automobile. I worked there for two-three years, and then I quit. I wasn’t really a smart man like you. I was just an ITI guy, who could work on those old instruments and machines. But then this new thing came. Computer Science. They assured us to change the face of technology. Well, honestly, we all were happy that something different was coming along. But when it did, many things were made automatic. They had reduced man power at considerable amount, and many of my colleagues became jobless. I was fortunate though. I had already learnt some new things which might have kept my job for few years. But those men were really poor and they couldn’t learn these new things without proper education and training. We saw many people switching their career and starting a business. Many of my friends took shops on rent and started business. But still, I heard many people went back to as worker at construction sites. Unfortunately, your technologies had reduced man power there too. But still there was a chance of getting a job that could feed you. But I always pitied on those people who couldn’t make it through,” he explained.

I was quietly listening him. That man was making some really appropriate points, on which I agreed. That must be really unbalanced and chaotic situation back then. 

“Anyway, I decided to make my son a techy person like you. I could never learn that computer thing, on which my son mocked me for quite long time. But I made him an engineer, just like you,” he said.

“That’s good,” I spoke blankly. 

“Yes,” he nodded. “Although, he is quite older than you. He is currently working too. But still sometimes when we discuss with each other, he mentions the same problem with his generation. He once told me that they learn things and they get upgraded in few years and they don’t get time to learn those new things. And he also mentioned that nowadays, engineers have worst fate. Is it?” 

“Yes,” I admitted. Well, I knew that most of us don’t have that glorious future. 

“Do you know what people do in such situations?” he inquired.

I remained quiet and that said it all.

“Compromises,” he said. “Some compromise with money. Some compromise with knowledge. And some compromise with skills. It is not actually their fault for not being qualified for the job, is it? Yet they have to compromise.”

“I wouldn’t,” I grumbled out of pride. “I would never compromise any of these.”

He looked at me curiously and said, “But sometimes you don’t have a choice.”

“But compromise is never an option. It doesn’t just waste your hard work, it makes you dishonourable. One compromise may not seem a big deal, but when you succeed, you just prefer compromise at every point of your life just because of your obsession with success,” I said calmly. 

He kept staring at me, while I said that. “You seem like really good lad,” he whispered. “You know where these things lead us. Tell me, are you obsessed with success or peace?” 

“I don’t know what I want yet. But I do know one thing that I don’t want success that has no meaning of that word,” I muttered. “For me, success is not just achieving wealth and prosperity. The journey matters the most to me. People choose different ways to get success. We call them shortcuts. But if you walk with self-pride, it is very unlikely that you’ll get success. I have heard many people telling me that once you reach there, nothing actually matters. But I still can’t stand with this concept of getting success by faking things. I can’t be dishonest with myself to just reach there.”

“But most of the people don’t work that way,” he grinned. “You’re right that for some people even little bit of dishonesty ruins the joy of their success. Because everyone has different priorities in life. Some people make their success priority. But some people make their honesty their priority. Legends say that honest ways lead you to success. But those legends were made during honest world. This is just a dishonest world. Here, honest ways may starve you to death.”

“When I come to your age, I don’t want to feel that my entire life was worthless. But perhaps dishonest ways will put me in that feeling of worthlessness,” I confessed.

“Then you shouldn’t be dishonest with your life,” he advised.

“And it will keep me away from success, forever,” I grumbled in disappointment.

“I’m not going to lie just because you could keep your motivation. But yes, it is very likely that it will keep you away from success,” he admitted. “Honesty is not everyone’s cup of tea, boy. People think that their compromises are their struggle. But it’s not. Compromise is not struggle. Honest people are rare. No one stays that way. But even if they do, how many of us know about their honesty?”

“Perhaps we don’t want to show people our honesty. Why would we?” I said.

“Yes, we shouldn’t,” he agreed. “And that is the you live with honesty. You may never see the face of success in your life, but you know the face of honesty. And believe me, it is more assuring than success.”

We remained quiet for a moment, as a bus passed by. 

“You said you quit the job. What did you do then?” I asked curiously.

“I became an insurance agent,” he replied calmly.

There was a strange silence for few moments. We both knew that irony, and I honestly wanted to laugh, yet I didn’t. However, he started laughing and I joined him.

Aloneness

Aloneness

I remember an incident from my teenage days when I was once travelling in a bus, as I usually do, and an occasional meeting with a stranger changed my perspective over certain things. I was about to complete the first year of my Engineering. The externals were just few days ahead. Therefore I had kept few books in my bag so that I could read them while traveling. It was second week of May and the sun was blazing in its full glory. I was all sweaty until the bus finally moved and the air relieved my agony. I sighed deeply. Although, the bus would take probably half an hour to find its way through the chaotic roads and traffic of the city. And I knew that I wouldn’t be able to read peacefully anyway. Therefore, I decided to put on my earplugs and started listening music until we'd arrive on an open route. After few stops in the city, I got a companion. He was a middle-aged man, probably in his fifties, and had worn tailored pair of shirt and pant and old leather shoes. His hair were thinning from on the crown and he had grey patches on rest of the hair. His neatly trimmed thin moustache gave him typical Gujarati look. He had no luggage. He was just carrying a bag. He sat beside me, while I moved to the window seat. I wouldn’t give away my window seat at any cost.  

That uncle sat quietly while I had to adjust my bulky fat body in the narrow space of those two seats. 

(I was remarkably fat back then. I lost my weight afterwards.) 

Once we were out of the chaos, I shoved the ear plugs into my bag and took out a book. Elements of Mechanical Engineering… The book read. I started reading it quietly while that uncle was noticing me with the corner of his eye. I sensed his stare intimidating my focus. And then he also pulled out some book and threw himself in it.

After half an hour of quiet reading, he finally said, “Damn! The summer is too vigorous this year!!”

I glanced at him and quietly nodded with a humble smile.

“They say it's a global warming effect,” he said. “You must be knowing a thing or two about it. After all, you’re an engineering student.” He pointed at the cover of my book. 

It felt really kind words to hear when you’re in first year of engineering. But as soon as you face the reality, that excitement fades away eventually.

“Yeah, I guess I know its consequences and intense reasons,” I replied enthusiastically. “In fact, we have a subject based on that in this semester. Environmental Studies.”

“Must be boring, huh!” he chuckled.

“Sort of,” I hesitatingly nodded. "But it really inspires people."

“So what kind of engineer are you?” he asked, narrowing his greyish brows.

“I’m not an engineer yet,” I chuckled.

“But you’ll be one. What would it be?” he repeated the question. For an engineering student and an unemployed engineer, there are few questions that send them into despair right away. 

“Computer science,” I answered bluntly.

“But I saw a book with some Mechanical Engineering title,” he said.

“Yeah, actually I’m in first year. So we’ve to learn some basic stuff too,” I explained.

“It doesn’t make sense, though,” he said, gazing at his own book, which was untitled since the hard cover had no title visible on it.

“Why?” I asked.

“You learn their subjects. But will they hire you for even that basic kind of work? They will hire a worker for it, but not you,” he said. “They want you to study. But they aren’t actually teaching you, are they? I bet they’d be telling you that it’s not important for your branch. So just focus on to clear it in exam.”

I couldn’t deny that. Most professors had told that thing.

“Then why waste time in something that you’ll never going to learn?” he said.

“For a degree, I guess,” I muttered.

“Boy, do you think that your degree would matter eventually?” he sneered.

Well, I was aware of Engineers’ situation in real world. Therefore, I couldn't deny that. He was right that even my degree wouldn’t matter some day.

“I bet you won’t learn a single thing during your college,” he continued. “Those industry-men want different things and you learn different things. What’s the meaning of learning then?”

“Education!” I mumbled stupidly.

“Perhaps… Because these days BA, MA are not educationally worthy degrees, right?”

“They are, but-”

“But aren’t helpful with money, I suppose,” he flickered, while his dark eyes twinkled. "But neither are yours nowadays."

I didn’t nod, since I thought it might offend him. Therefore, I stayed quiet and unmoved. He kept staring at me for a moment and then said, “Yeah, actually they aren’t really helpful with money.”

I was a bit relieved as he said that. 

“I, myself, have the same experience,” he muttered.

“What do you do?” I inquired.

“I’m a writer,” he declared.

“A writer writer?” I asked in surprise. Perhaps I couldn’t believe that I was sitting beside a writer who might have published his books or a book.

“What do you mean by ‘a writer writer’?” he narrowed his eyes.

“I mean… You write books?” I gulped nervously.

“Not in this world!” he laughed. “Although, I did try once and it was rejected by so many publishers that I gave up eventually.”

“So what do you do then?” I asked again.

“I write articles in newspaper,” he replied.

“Okay,” I nodded nervously. “But why did you give up?”

He didn’t answer for a moment. He just kept gazing at his book. I thought he might be uncomfortable talking about his personal life. There are some people who won’t share their life experiences or moments with you. They intend to keep their privacy, which I respect heartily. But unlike what I had hoped, he replied after few quiet moments.

“Money!” he said softly. “Money makes you give up your dreams. I graduated in Hindi. I did masters too. I had started writing during my masters. And I completed two of my stories during that time. However by the time I had completed MA, I was 24. My family was a middle-class. My father was retired and I was the only child. We were living on his pension which was negligible to survive. I had only two options: I could have continued my writing. Or I could have joined as teacher in a nearby school.”

“You could have written while working?” I said. "So many writers do job and write simultaneously."

“That’s a myth,” he said. “If you want to create a quality work, you must give your quality time in it. If you’re not ready to spend time in literature, it’s better to focus on your job and earn that way. Because that’s how it works. You can’t get both at the same time. Perhaps it might work for some extraordinary minds who are too gifted at extreme multitasking. But unfortunately I'm not that blessed with that gift.”

“So, you quit writing?” I asked.

“As I said I had no choice,” he said. “I took that job as a Hindi teacher in a secondary school. I worked there for seven years until I had enough money to switch my job. However I hadn’t written a single word for my book. My days were spent filling those attendance sheets and results. I had read all those books I was teaching during my graduation. Syllabus in India doesn’t change so frequently. Yet I did spend some time in the library to study some more works. But school libraries have limited books. When I was not a school teacher... I mean apart from my work, I had family responsibilities. But when I decided to quit my job as a teacher, I tried to publish those two stories. Unfortunately I got rejected from 13 publishers. And my savings were grabbing my neck. So I joined this newspaper company through a reference of my friend who worked there. He got me a job as a writer. I write articles there. Some stories that I might have put into my books.”

“But you’re a writer now, aren’t you?” I asked softly.

He stayed quiet for a moment and then said, “Yes, I’m. But not a real writer. Not what I expected of myself. My stories never saw the destination they were supposed to see. We dream too high, but our destinies lock our feet to the ground eventually. I have a family now. I have a job. I earn enough to aid my family and I save enough for their prosperous future. I suppose, that's where my destiny meant to be. Yet I don’t feel complete, you see. We’re surrounded by our family, friends, relatives and society, but even they can’t help us with our aloneness. It's not loneliness, you see. Loneliness is when you've lack of company. Aloneness is when you don't have even your own company. Writers dream from a very young age. They always have stories to tell. Their creative minds are filled with all kinds of imagination. It’s just they don’t know how to tell them at that age. They utilize their time enhancing their skills of writing. And when they finally write it, they feel very proud about it. Because it’s the most satisfying feeling in the entire world… To complete your first story… To complete your first book. But the bitter side of that is, it’s your story. It came from your heart and it’s not necessary that your heart will be loved by others. Publishers are businessmen. They will reject you if your story won't sell, even though you have spent considerable amount in that book. We can’t blame them either. It’s their job. They work of money. We can’t blame anyone but ourselves. We let ourselves dream. We let ourselves fly high. And then we make ourselves alone.”

The Sunrise

The Sunrise

Roaming around the lonely beach on beautiful sunsets is everyone’s dream. And people do take advantages of such moments. However there’re very few who roam around a beach on early sunrises. I don’t know if the reason. Is it because most people don’t want to disturb their sleep? Or is it something else? Anyways, I don’t have such moments so often since I live in a town which is hundreds of miles far from the closest seashore. But yes, sometimes I do go on trips to enjoy the blissful beauty of nature.

Few years ago, I was on one of such trips along with my family. And Family Trips often end up around religious places. As a devout learner of history and culture, I never had any objection in pilgrimages. Fortunately, in Gujarat, most religious places have soulful nature. Some of them are situated at hills while some of them are situated on beautiful seashores. Anyways, we were travelling towards the western coast of Gujarat which is the shoreline of Arabian Sea. When people travel around that part of Gujarat, they make several stops like Somnath, Dwarka, Porbandar, Jam Nagar, etc. We had decided to go on round trip so that we could visit at least all of these places once. As soon as we crossed Junagarh, I made up my mind to wake up early the next morning and enjoy the beautiful sunrise at the seashore. Since we were heading toward Somnath, I thought it was a great idea. Being such an enthusiast and admirer of nature, art and music, I never miss such moments. I was in college in those days. However, it was Diwali Vacation when we were travelling. And I was in the first year of college. Few months ago, I had been through some terrible days when my result of HSC was declared and it was completely unexpected. Contrary to my expectations. Horrible, if I could just name it in one word. And I was in despair, in depression for few days until I got admission in Engineering. Although, I couldn’t reserve my seat in the branch I had always aspired. Yet getting an admission was a good news that cheered me up a little. However, that sadness of not achieving my first dream would stay forever with me. Honestly, that was the first trip I had gone after my result. Otherwise I didn’t actually go outside except for home to college and college to home. That had become my life. But this trip... I thought of making it an oblivion for those dolorous memories and overwriting some refreshing ones on their place.

Another thing that affected my nature was that I’m an introvert. I have always been an introvert. You might say the worst kind of introvert, who doesn’t like any people, who spends most of his life in one room without even chatting either with real people or on social media and even without interacting with his own family. Girls! Well, I'm the shyest person in the entire world. Perhaps I always will be. So that didn’t happen anyway. With such mind-set even if you decide to let yourself enjoy a moment or two, you’d look for lonely moments where you could breathe the bliss of serenity. And that’s what I did. I planned to roam on a beach alone in an early morning.

I had woken up at 4 AM in the morning. We were staying at a hotel and I didn’t want to disturb anyone. Although, I kept my mobile with me in case people would panic after not seeing me there. So, I sneaked out of the hotel while the guard was still sleeping at the door. But another guard caught me.

“Where are you going, sir?” he asked politely.

“On the beach,” I replied bluntly. It was dark in the hotel as all the lights were off. And the guard flashed his torch directly on my face. I closed my eyes as it was unbearable to look at such vividness just after a slumber. 

“It’s too early to go there,” he said, glancing at his wrist watch. “I doubt if they’d allow you to roam around.”

“Who?” I frowned.

“The police, sir,” he said. “They guard the shore. You see, these tourists often behave stupidly and lose their lives. That’s why the shore must be guarded.”

“Don’t worry! I won’t be harmful,” I assured. "I'm not suicidal either."

He stared at me suspiciously. Perhaps my last comment had made an opposite influence on his mind.

“I’m not going to dive into the sea,” I said. “I just want to see the sunrise.”

“Well, we don’t have a better sunrise point. So, alright. But if you don’t come before 7, I’ll have to inform your family,” he instructed.

“I’m not planning to stay there till the place becomes a fish market,” I reassured.

I left the hotel and went to the beach. Fortunately, we were staying in one of the closest hotels, so it wasn’t a long walk. I could see the beach while I was walking down the road. The water was dark, probably reflecting the dark blue sky which was towering above us/me. When I gazed up, the sky was clear. Though I could see a bit glow that indicated that sunrise was near. I noted the streets completely empty. Although, I saw some people rushing towards the famous temple of Somnath. They had woken up early to see the first Aarti of Mahadeva. I also wanted to see that first Aarti. But I knew that during the days of vacations, there are always a huge rush at temples. And I didn't want to just have a glimpse of it and be kicked out. So I headed in the opposite direction. After few minutes, I was on the beach where I saw an officer speeding towards me. I was waiting for him to come and finish his lecture.

“You can’t go closer, sir. It’s not safe at this time,” he said. 

I saw a cup of tea in his hand and smoke swirling out of it. He had hung his gun on his left shoulder. His thick moustache was gloriously fluttering in heavy wind. I could feel the coldness of upcoming winter in the air. It was the first week of November and the freezing winds of the Himalayas were probably travelling towards us.

“I’m just here to see the sunrise,” I said.

He looked around to see if anyone was behind me. “And I’m alone,” I said.

“Well, no one comes this early to see the sunrise,” he said, sipping his tea. “It’s too early.”

I glanced at my wrist watch; it was 4:40 by then. I realized that I took enough time in refreshing myself at the hotel. And that guard took five minutes.

“It’s almost half an hour till we could see the first glimpse of the sun,” he said.

“I know,” I nodded. “But the real beauty is to see the sun rising. And that begins now. The sky will soon lose its dusk as the faint light would invade it.”

He smiled. “This is the western coast. It wouldn’t be a sunrise as you’ve been seeing in the movies,” he said.

“I know that. I don’t expect it to be dramatic,” I chuckled. “When the sun would rise at certain height, its rays would directly fall on the water. Now, imagine the waves and the water gleaming like a molten gold at that moment,” I said enthusiastically.

“I don’t have to imagine. I see it every day,” he said proudly with a gentle smile on his brave face.

“Then what’s the problem if I wanted to see it?” I argued.

“Because you’re a tourist. We can’t risk to let you in,” he replied.

“Oh, please! No one is here. No one will come until 6:30. Let me go,” I requested.

“I can’t let you go,” he shook his head. “But you can come with me. We sit there,” he pointed at their tent. “You can see whatever you want to as long as you don’t disappear from my sight.”

That was my only chance to view that amazing moment. I couldn’t deny this opportunity. Besides, their tent was almost close to the shore. Although, they had cautiously made it to keep it safe from the tide. I agreed and followed him towards his tent.

I saw another officer lying on a desi bed there. He was still deep in sleep. The officer who was with me signalled me to pick up a stool and follow him quietly while he did the same. We both went a bit closer to the shore and we put our stools there. He had carried his plastic cup along with a grey kettle.

“Want some tea?” he offered.

“No. Thank you,” I shook my head while yawning.

“It will absorb your slumber and freshen you up,” he said remarking my yawning.

So, I nodded. He pulled out his plastic cup and there was another cup beneath it. He poured some tea and gave it to me. I took a sip and started gazing into the horizon. The weather was becoming warmer and the darkness was fading slowly. Yet there was no sign of the sun, but its pale orange glow had started marching across the sky.

“You have pretty amazing job, huh!” I muttered.

“It’s the most exhausting job in the entire world,” he snorted. “You meet plenty of stupid people all day and you can’t even talk to them in loud voice. They come here and do some useless stuff.”

“Well, people are awkward,” I agreed.

“They’re not awkward. Most of them are just stupid,” he said. I looked at him for some explanation. “People arrive here and rush to bath in this salted water. Moreover they take their little kids inside the water. And sometimes while their parents are busy, the kids roam around freely. How careless are those parents! Can’t they see that their kids could drown in this deep water? This is ocean, not a bloody swimming pool!”

Well, he was right. People do such kind of things and eventually these guards are accused for their carelessness. But most of the times the truth is rather opposite.

“Moreover, those balloon-mans and vendors encourage tourists to take some risks,” he said. “Why the hell you want to be adventurous at the ocean? Can’t you see its enormous waves racing towards you? Sometimes one wave is enough to drag you off the shore.”

“Hmm. Yes, they’re stupid,” I admitted.

We talked for half an hour there and he told me about his previous jobs and postings and I told him my little story of youth which was not as intriguing as his previous postings. He told me that he had been posted at Dwarka too for several months where he saw the same stupidity of people. He had been posted at borders of Kutch as well, which was fascinating to hear. He told me about the life there. He also told me about his family as I had inquired. He had a wife and a small daughter who were living in a village from where he came. His both parents had passed away and his younger brother was working in a textile factory. I asked him how often he visited his village and he replied that he went to visit them every four months.

While we were talking, we realized that the sun was rising behind our backs. As I had expected, the sun-rays fell directly on the waves of the ocean and the ocean gleamed in a surface of molten gold. The birds started singing and chirping and the air became warm. After watching the impact of sunrise on the ocean, I turned around to look at the sunrise. Though the high structures of hotels were penetrating the skyline, the sun was gleaming behind them gloriously. It was pale yet, but it had made the edges of those building gleaming like sharp golden blades. It rose slowly and I looked at the ocean again. The atmosphere had become brighter and the darkness had faded away completely.

“Here is your view,” the officer murmured.

I saw those four golden waves racing behind each other to reach the shore. I thought of my dreams racing like those waves to reach their destination. But as soon as the first wave collided the shore, the following waves collided into each other and shattered just like my dreams. But one thing I learnt from that race was that those waves would restart their race and some other wave would lead this time and make its way towards the shore first. Perhaps we should also reshape our dreams just like those waves reshape themselves. Perhaps we should start that race again because the life is not over yet. Those waves wouldn’t stop their race until the ocean dries up. And we must not lose hope until our life ends. Perhaps that is life.

One more thing that I understood that day was that the nature inspires our soul to be pure, to be honest, to be peaceful and to be continuous. Because the nature always has answers to all of our questions. It has the most positive motivation for life. Perhaps because it (nature) is life. We take birth in the womb of nature and we live our lives by the laws of nature in order to fulfill our destinies and eventually to fulfill the nature’s destiny. Even if we lose hope in our lives, we have to live for our destiny. For the nature’s destiny. Because it’s all connected. And they all together make life.