Living in the moment!

I was just up; stretching lazily after a peaceful, long night’s sleep. Father was attending his breakfast after his morning shift of work. I was enthusiastically blabbering about my day’s plan and asked if he would accompany me for an evening stroll. He never replied. He seemed grim, shaken even. I imagined his spirits were weighed down by his burdensome work. Hoping to lift his mood and divert his mind from the mundane, I launched into the details of the most appealing aspects of my forthcoming training in Chicago. A conversation about his children’s achievements, on a normal day, makes him swell with pride and a smile lights his face despite himself. Yet, he replied with the filmy dialogue, “kal ke baare mein mat socho; kya pata beta, kal ho naa ho (don’t think too much about tomorrow; there may be no tomorrow),” except that there wasn’t anything filmy about the way he said it.

And so he enumerated the encounter of an 11-year-old with the cruelty of his fate. The kid who’d only just gotten into high-school full of excitement to explore and exploit his newly found freedom was headed to school in an exceedingly-stuffed auto-rickshaw. He fell prey to a grisly accident as the auto was hit by a fully-loaded Heavy Goods Vehicle; the boy hit the road and was run over by tyres double his size. All was chaos outside; for the boy, the world had grown silent.

The news hit me hard. The boy had only left his home moments ago, was still well in sight of his mother who’d come to see him off; little did she know that it would be the last time they bade adieu. He might have harboured dreams of being appreciated for an essay he’d written, feared chidings for unfinished homework, planned a nice tiffin-time with his friends, and schemed an eventful cricket game for the evening. Yet, all of his plans for the day, for tomorrow or for the next year; all his dreams about a career, an Audi or a girlfriend, now lay silent with him.

All men are aware of the fragile nature of life, of the impending doom; yet, somehow, we manage to ignore the harsh reality. Forgetting about this one certainty might be a comfortable choice, yet, being aware of it might make us more certain about our actions, plans, and priorities. Thinking of death as our one common end relieves you of all fears, pride, ego, lust and embarrassment. Every tick of the clock becomes a reminder to focus on what is most important to you before your time runs out.

The silver lining of the dark cloud of death that invariably looms above us all is the recurrent reminder to ‘live in the moment’. Beware, that a full-proof plan of working hard in twenties, marrying at thirty, spending time with family in fifties and being a philanthropist in the sixties might just not work out. Every moment, there are innumerable, unthinkable ways in which all your plans might hit a dead end to rest in peace besides you. As Mark Twain so aptly put it, “Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen today.”

So, prioritise today! Nurture your hobbies, keep your promises, work hard and play hard, share unforgetful memories with your family, spend money on outings, click pictures, laugh out loud, dance with your sweetheart until your legs fail you, take a moment to express your affection towards friends, say, “I love you,” smile and spread it everywhere you go. Take time to play, to think and read, to laugh and sing, to “dream as if you’ll live forever and to live as if you’ll die today,” take time to love and be loved.

I conclude with Steve Jobs’ words that seem fitting here, “When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: 'If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right.' It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: 'If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?' And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”

So once again, live in the moment; because this moment might be all you have!

Brick Walls: They’re there for a reason!

“The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough.” – Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture.

The mid-90’s contemporary society in Brooklyn had a remarkable way of selling off left-over Christmas trees. On the eve of Christmas, the store-owner would exhibit his unsold lot for a day or so, while the not-so-wealthy relied  on their imagination to satisfy their fancies of homes adorned with the trees they liked the best. Francie, an 11-year old ran home and brought her father to the exhibition. She pointed to the largest tree, begged him to buy it, crying her heart out. Unfortunately, her father did not have the luxury to relent. So she set herself a new goal in life. With an air of ambition she said, “I’m going to work hard, grow rich and have a house with that tree in the hall.” All day, she sat on a desk by the side of the exhibition puzzling the quirky shades of green, admiring the colorful reflections the little bulbs played over the snowballs, drawing the energy and inspiration to sail through life’s hardships.  

After this day of admiration, came the night of revelation, when the owner declared that they would sell the trees for a few cents each, to whosoever competed and won a tournament-of-sorts. The final task for the largest tree would be a show of physical strength so that everyone could enjoy the sport. The atmosphere charged up with excitement as everyone contemplated who would bag the best or the largest ones. Francie’s father encouraged her to compete for the largest tree despite knowing she was the frailest in the crowd. She complied since she did not want to give in without a fight.

The set tasks were long, tedious and pointless to the extent of building frustration amongst the participants. One by one, people retired with whatever little their tasks earned them; not Francie. She stuck to her goal until the final task, when it so happened that she was the only one left competing for the largest tree and it naturally came to her. All happy and content she carried it home with her father.

A distant observer expressed his curiosity over the entire ordeal to the shop-owner. The owner wisely answered, “The process is a filter, so designed to ensure that the one who wants something most badly is the one who gets it. None of them could’ve afforded to pay for any of the trees. The ordeal was a chance for them to prove how desperately they wanted it!”

All of us hate to think of the hard work that goes behind our most treasured successes, the trying period preceding fulfillment of our dreams and passions. Oft times we give up for fear of failure. It is worthwhile to remember that the tough phases are not to keep you from success; they are a filter, they are there to keep the others away!
So the next time you’re cribbing about the trials a girl would put you through before saying that ‘yes’, know that she’s probably not trying to keep you away, she’s evaluating how badly you want her. She’s only trying to keep the others away! ;-)