WHEN WE LOSE OUR WAY
“Sometimes,
when you lose your way, you find yourself.”
Mandy
Hale
When
the roots are strong, the tree, invariably, grows strong. When we take good
care of the saplings, they, invariably, grow into robust trees. That’s how our
lives, too, shape up. The reason why we all try to provide our children with
fine values and discipline is, precisely, for this reason – we want them to
grow up into fine adults. Every generation of parents has been doing it.
But, one thing
has, always, mystified me… The destiny is shaped by multiple factors. Sometimes,
despite utmost care of the saplings, the trees grow crooked. At some other
times, despite lack of care for saplings, they grow up into fine trees… The
struggle, rejection and personal quest are incredible character-shapers. Hence,
I hesitate to foretell the fate of a sapling… John Lennon said, “There is
nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.”
Yesterday,
I had been to a school for the underprivileged kids. This school was run in a
slum. What’s impressive to see was the enthusiasm and involvement of young boys
and girls of Rotaract Club. I was
invited by these Rotaract boys and girls to conduct two sessions on ‘Self-confidence
and Communication Skills’ for the underprivileged children. Yesterday was the
second and concluding session. There were more than hundred kids from class 9.
The kids were lovely; their restlessness and love were infectious. Since they came
from rough backgrounds, the ways they were disciplined in school were also rough…
I had handed each kid and the staff member a copy of our latest book – ‘Go
Corona Go’ (About the Viruses within). They were thrilled!
At the end of
the session, I, spontaneously, encouraged one of the most restless boys to come
forward and say something. I nudged him, saying, “Thank the school and teachers for
making it happen; thank Rotaract Club for organizing it; thank me for helping
you, that’s all.” The boy dropped his hesitation and came forward, but all the
while looking anxiously at his strict class-teacher who was sitting in the last
bench. Intrigued, I looked towards the teacher… She had pressed her palm to her
forehead, visibly expressing: “Hey Bhagwan!”
Of all the young
sheep in her class, I seemed to have picked the one she thought was the blackest…
Naturally, the boy was worried about his teacher’s reaction. I took the lighter
route and asked the boy, “Do you know why your teacher is pressing her palm to her
forehead?”
The boy shied away
from saying anything, while his teacher and the classmates laughed…
“Beta,
let me tell you why your teacher was doing it,” I said gently and seriously, “Because,
no one knows what is written on your forehead.”
GERALD D’CUNHA
Pic.: pixabay
Video: WaveMusic
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