"Uncle, can you please give me a chocolate?", 4 year old Jeetu prodded Mr. Sen. Biswajit Sen was furiously typing on his computer drafting a notification to his group associates.
International currency rates suddenly became volatile and this seemed to be the roughest time for his business. He lost $100,000 due to the volatility, a shock of his lifetime. He patiently waved towards Mrs. Verma to take her child back towards her.
Reema Verma was on her way back home with her kid. The 25 year old was in deep thought, although somehow, her wandering mind came immediately to sense and noted the irritated Biswajit. Reema lovingly pulled Jeetu back towards herself. She explained Jeetu to not disturb the other uncle, and jumped back to her thoughts.
"Uncle please, only one chocolate" Jeetu again brisked towards him.
"Only if the lazy bozos were as active as this pesky little kid, we would have achieved our Q3 targets, I wouldn't be sitting impatient here waiting to recover my money" muttered Sen to his self. "When life gives us lemons, we should bloody sell them for money".
Reema again pulled him back and looked at Jeetu eye-to-eye with more love. She stood up, picked a small toy car from her purse and gave him to play. Immersed in her thoughts, she took a peek from the window.
Chunks of lands, trees, stations, running parallel with the roads, the train leaped forward with every passing second.
Jeetu played with the toy, whirling it in the air making imaginary take-offs and landings, driving the car in the air across all possible seating area.
Biswa, as his wife fondly called him, this time, was visibly frustrated with the antics of this kid when he jettisoned the small Lego man from the car towards Biswa.
"The journey has just started" the pentagenarian observed, "and we still have 26 hours to Mumbai", the train had not even reached Roorkee.
The environment was buzzing with consistent cackling and whooshing sounds made by Jeetu, apart from the gushing sound the train made while in transit.
"How will I bear the strength to tolerate this nonsense of a child?"
Reema, this time clearly warned Jeetu to not disturb others around and made him sit forcefully with her.
The blowing breeze that gently touched her cheeks, the anxious pauper kids at the tracks waving towards the train, their huts in clusters depicting the slums, the mind boggling traffic at the roads in sight, the big banners of smiling celebrities selling toothpaste, the occasional small rivulets that passed through below the bridges, all made through her mind knitting more notions and considerations paving ways to more thoughts.
The crude voice of hawkers chipping in the compartment at irregular intervals was an already anticipated headache, but this fusion of cacophony amplified with the brat around wasn't something Mr Sen had envisioned.
Biswa was engrossed in his work when he suddenly amidst this dissonance, noticed Reema.
She seemed a work of art. Beauty was the word underestimated when used for her.
Flawless jawlines, mesmerizing face, innocent eyes.
And then his gaze went at the kid. "How could such a piece of art give birth to such a prick?" He again glanced at her. His admiration was pure, not toxic or lustful, but pure. The gaze broke, thanks to a pinging sound on his laptop, and he once again got back to business. Jeetu played with the toy more aggressively and now literally landed in Biswajit's lap.
Biswa was filled with rage. He picked up the notorious one, stood up and walked towards Reema. Angrily placing him in her lap, he shouted, "Haven't you taught your child some manners? If I were this child's father, I would have slapped some discipline into him."
Reema got shocked. She was deeply in her thoughts, completely forgotten that someone is uncomfortable due to Jeetu misbehaving. It took a moment to come back to reality and she gauged around what had just happened.
Jeetu started chanting "Papa, Papa" innocently looking at her mother.
Tears rolled down her eyes. She felt a lump in her throat. She wanted to speak but couldn't.
"Enough is enough, why can't you just call his papa and make him shut?"
"Just call the TC and change their seats, even I am getting distracted since so long" yelled another elderly co-passenger, a couple of seats away.
"Youngsters these days simply don't know how to manage their children, why plan a kid if you cannot handle?"
Biswa regained his composure, and got back to his seat, cursing his fate. Reema tried stopping her tears but still couldn't. She finally decided to talk, gathering some strength.
"Apologies sir. I will try to be a better mother to my child. Sorry that he disturbed you for so long. I was in some tension"
"What tension? Do you know how difficult it is to sit in a train on a working day and getting distracted by the noise? I lost my temper more due to this prick than the slow network signals. I'll tell you what tension is. I am sitting at a negative of $100,000 for 3 clients of mine. I have to get payment acknowledgement letters and also ship Forex dealing info to my US based offices."
"Sorry sir I will make sure Jeetu doesn't interrupt your business."
"Interrupt? He already made me rewrite my draft copies I intended to send to my attorneys. Thank the gods the government is not involved in this deal, or else I would have had to pay more cess from my finances. I have to plan for my son's future."
"Me too, sir. I too have to plan for my son's future. I am tensed for the same reason."
"What is it that you need to plan for this little champion?", Biswa snarled sarcastically.
"His entire future sir. He's a special needs child. I have to take extra care of him when out". "Well then you are doing a fantastic job", another jibe. "Sorry sir, his father used to be pretty good at handling him. Unfortunately, I lost Hrishi to an accident few days back" and her grief-stricken voice stammered more. "I am just returning back from Haridwar, immersing his ashes in the holy river. He was the breadwinner for the family. I... I don't know what lies ahead for both of us." And she cried more.
Biswa was lost. A severe sense of uneasiness, anxiety bestowed upon him. He was speechless. The guilt he felt for mumbling and grunting a few minutes ago, took the realization from him. The peripeteia dawned on him that how misunderstood he was, in analyzing the situation.
This man of grey hair got a 180 degree change in his perception. The same pesky kid he had grudges on, now was a guileless little child. Biswa saw the thorn turn into a petal. "What is the fault of this poor child?", thought Biswa. He was simply numb.
Reema took the kid to her seat, started reading him a book. Wiping a tear down from her cheek, she looked with hope at her kid. The encounter that Biswa had, was not a simple episode in his life.
Perception taught him a lesson that day. When life gives us lemons, first make sure they are lemons. Not everyone has the same set of circumstances, not everyone can have a similar set of life. Not all human beings go through the same set of challenges in life. He was tensed with the temporary downfall of his business, and he looked at Reema; she will have to reinvent the wheel in her life. The analogy of his train journey couldn't be missed. Approx 25% of the train journey completed, he received a shock of his lifetime, thinking his way out for him and his family's future. "How different is this lady's journey from my train's?"
Biswajit learned a lesson that day. "Is first impression really the last impression?"
And he recollected a John Lennon quote "The more I see, the less I know"
International currency rates suddenly became volatile and this seemed to be the roughest time for his business. He lost $100,000 due to the volatility, a shock of his lifetime. He patiently waved towards Mrs. Verma to take her child back towards her.
Reema Verma was on her way back home with her kid. The 25 year old was in deep thought, although somehow, her wandering mind came immediately to sense and noted the irritated Biswajit. Reema lovingly pulled Jeetu back towards herself. She explained Jeetu to not disturb the other uncle, and jumped back to her thoughts.
"Uncle please, only one chocolate" Jeetu again brisked towards him.
"Only if the lazy bozos were as active as this pesky little kid, we would have achieved our Q3 targets, I wouldn't be sitting impatient here waiting to recover my money" muttered Sen to his self. "When life gives us lemons, we should bloody sell them for money".
Reema again pulled him back and looked at Jeetu eye-to-eye with more love. She stood up, picked a small toy car from her purse and gave him to play. Immersed in her thoughts, she took a peek from the window.
Chunks of lands, trees, stations, running parallel with the roads, the train leaped forward with every passing second.
Jeetu played with the toy, whirling it in the air making imaginary take-offs and landings, driving the car in the air across all possible seating area.
Biswa, as his wife fondly called him, this time, was visibly frustrated with the antics of this kid when he jettisoned the small Lego man from the car towards Biswa.
"The journey has just started" the pentagenarian observed, "and we still have 26 hours to Mumbai", the train had not even reached Roorkee.
The environment was buzzing with consistent cackling and whooshing sounds made by Jeetu, apart from the gushing sound the train made while in transit.
"How will I bear the strength to tolerate this nonsense of a child?"
Reema, this time clearly warned Jeetu to not disturb others around and made him sit forcefully with her.
The blowing breeze that gently touched her cheeks, the anxious pauper kids at the tracks waving towards the train, their huts in clusters depicting the slums, the mind boggling traffic at the roads in sight, the big banners of smiling celebrities selling toothpaste, the occasional small rivulets that passed through below the bridges, all made through her mind knitting more notions and considerations paving ways to more thoughts.
The crude voice of hawkers chipping in the compartment at irregular intervals was an already anticipated headache, but this fusion of cacophony amplified with the brat around wasn't something Mr Sen had envisioned.
Biswa was engrossed in his work when he suddenly amidst this dissonance, noticed Reema.
She seemed a work of art. Beauty was the word underestimated when used for her.
Flawless jawlines, mesmerizing face, innocent eyes.
And then his gaze went at the kid. "How could such a piece of art give birth to such a prick?" He again glanced at her. His admiration was pure, not toxic or lustful, but pure. The gaze broke, thanks to a pinging sound on his laptop, and he once again got back to business. Jeetu played with the toy more aggressively and now literally landed in Biswajit's lap.
Biswa was filled with rage. He picked up the notorious one, stood up and walked towards Reema. Angrily placing him in her lap, he shouted, "Haven't you taught your child some manners? If I were this child's father, I would have slapped some discipline into him."
Reema got shocked. She was deeply in her thoughts, completely forgotten that someone is uncomfortable due to Jeetu misbehaving. It took a moment to come back to reality and she gauged around what had just happened.
Jeetu started chanting "Papa, Papa" innocently looking at her mother.
Tears rolled down her eyes. She felt a lump in her throat. She wanted to speak but couldn't.
"Enough is enough, why can't you just call his papa and make him shut?"
"Just call the TC and change their seats, even I am getting distracted since so long" yelled another elderly co-passenger, a couple of seats away.
"Youngsters these days simply don't know how to manage their children, why plan a kid if you cannot handle?"
Biswa regained his composure, and got back to his seat, cursing his fate. Reema tried stopping her tears but still couldn't. She finally decided to talk, gathering some strength.
"Apologies sir. I will try to be a better mother to my child. Sorry that he disturbed you for so long. I was in some tension"
"What tension? Do you know how difficult it is to sit in a train on a working day and getting distracted by the noise? I lost my temper more due to this prick than the slow network signals. I'll tell you what tension is. I am sitting at a negative of $100,000 for 3 clients of mine. I have to get payment acknowledgement letters and also ship Forex dealing info to my US based offices."
"Sorry sir I will make sure Jeetu doesn't interrupt your business."
"Interrupt? He already made me rewrite my draft copies I intended to send to my attorneys. Thank the gods the government is not involved in this deal, or else I would have had to pay more cess from my finances. I have to plan for my son's future."
"Me too, sir. I too have to plan for my son's future. I am tensed for the same reason."
"What is it that you need to plan for this little champion?", Biswa snarled sarcastically.
"His entire future sir. He's a special needs child. I have to take extra care of him when out". "Well then you are doing a fantastic job", another jibe. "Sorry sir, his father used to be pretty good at handling him. Unfortunately, I lost Hrishi to an accident few days back" and her grief-stricken voice stammered more. "I am just returning back from Haridwar, immersing his ashes in the holy river. He was the breadwinner for the family. I... I don't know what lies ahead for both of us." And she cried more.
Biswa was lost. A severe sense of uneasiness, anxiety bestowed upon him. He was speechless. The guilt he felt for mumbling and grunting a few minutes ago, took the realization from him. The peripeteia dawned on him that how misunderstood he was, in analyzing the situation.
This man of grey hair got a 180 degree change in his perception. The same pesky kid he had grudges on, now was a guileless little child. Biswa saw the thorn turn into a petal. "What is the fault of this poor child?", thought Biswa. He was simply numb.
Reema took the kid to her seat, started reading him a book. Wiping a tear down from her cheek, she looked with hope at her kid. The encounter that Biswa had, was not a simple episode in his life.
Perception taught him a lesson that day. When life gives us lemons, first make sure they are lemons. Not everyone has the same set of circumstances, not everyone can have a similar set of life. Not all human beings go through the same set of challenges in life. He was tensed with the temporary downfall of his business, and he looked at Reema; she will have to reinvent the wheel in her life. The analogy of his train journey couldn't be missed. Approx 25% of the train journey completed, he received a shock of his lifetime, thinking his way out for him and his family's future. "How different is this lady's journey from my train's?"
Biswajit learned a lesson that day. "Is first impression really the last impression?"
And he recollected a John Lennon quote "The more I see, the less I know"
