Never too late to learn

 Yesterday, I had to go to Kailash colony. Coming out of the by-lanes of Green Park I hit the colony’s main exit road, eyes continuously strained in search of an auto. Spotting one, I walked in hasty steps. Not finding the driver in his seat, I looked around. Standing a little apart stood a man reading a hindi book, ’Rahim’. Hesitantly I asked him if he was the driver of the auto.

 ‘Yes,’ came a prompt reply.

“Will you take me to Kailash Colony market?”

 He nodded and I sat in the auto. As the auto moved ahead, out of curiosity, I got into conversation with him. I asked him if he was fond of reading.

“Very much madam” he replied.

How much Have you studied?

Matric pass.

It was as if I had touched his pulse point. With great zeal he narrated his story, that he had seen great poverty in his life. As a child, he studied in a village school. Right from his childhood was verangery interested in studies. Once, his Principal gave him a project. He, with the help of his class fellows made charts, wrote shlokas, and mounted them on the school walls. He then recited a Sanskrit shloka of that time, and explained the meaning, ‘education alone can make the person stand out in the world’. The principal was so happy that he made him the monitor of the class.

As we were nearing our destination, he recited another shloka in Sanskrit, saying that it was the turning point of his life, and made it a focal point thereafter. He then explained the meaning of the shloka:

“Where there is laziness there is no knowledge.

Where there is knowledge there is no rest.”

He made it a motto, to read any good literature that he laid his hands on. His family was against it but he did not give up. That ways, he felt would keep learning and enhancing knowledge all his life.

It is rightly said, “Education maketh a man, not the riches.”

In my eyes, he was truly educated. His being an auto driver, his poverty, did not deter him from the richness of education that he self generated.  He was worth every honour.

Urban Illiterate

In a single day, witnessing both happy and sad coincidental incidents left me quite perplexed. On a particular day going to Kailash Colony in an auto was quite pleasant. That was one part of the story.

 Finishing my work I came out and looked around for an auto to go back to Green Park. Spotting one, I asked him if could take me to my destination. He refused saying that he could not go.

Now this was quite irritating—I mean the auto was there, that too vacant, yet not ready to go. When I insisted as to why he would not take me, he blurted out, “The world is full of cheats. I don’t know whom to believe madam. A lady got down from my auto... told me to wait... that she will come in five minutes and give me the money. For mere fifty rupees I’ve been waiting for past one hour.”

The man was little short of crying. The pain of being cheated was writ large on his face. In that instant, a thought flashed. I sat in the auto saying, “Chalo, I will give you the money.”

There was a sense of relief after giving the auto-wala his due plus fifty rupees. But it left me with a question.

 Why did I pay somebody else’s dues?

 Was this a pichle janam ka hisab-kitab?

What joy did the lady get by cheating a poor man?

Or is this some kind of cheap thrill?