Twitter feeds

Sunday, September 23, 2012

You can't increase the circumference of the glass but you could break your cookie

Today, I saw a kid who was intelligent than I was at his age. He reminded me of an incident that happened when I was a kid of similar age. I have to admit that I have a rather bad memory and I do not remember a lot of things from that age. But this one, a very important incident for me, would have been insignificant for anybody else.
One fine evening back in 1992, when I was probably not more than 5, I was holding a cup of milk in one hand and a cookie on the other, annoyed that the cookie was too large (or that the glass was too small) to be dipped into the milk, while my mom was in, what seemed to be an important discussion with my uncle (dad's youngest brother). I kept interrupting their discussion asking for a bigger glass. My uncle probably didn't appreciate me bugging my mom, turned at me and said, "Why don't you stop annoying your mom for a moment. Do you really need a bigger glass? Can't you break the cookie into two and dip it?". Having said that, he turned back to my mom and continued his conversation. But I felt humiliated. It wasn't an ingenious idea or anything. Any smart kid would have done it but not me. This kid I saw today wasn't bugging his mother for a bigger glass. He instantly knew what to do. But there I was, not realizing that going for a bigger glass wasn't the only solution. I won't say that I started thinking differently from that day or anything. It would be completely dishonest if I said that opened my eyes. On the contrary, I would have had been much happier if I had not been offered that suggestion or a bigger glass and left on my own to figure that out.
And my uncle who accidentally inspired me to think of a workaround is by far the most perfect man I ever knew. And it baffles me till this date why such a person would end his life himself. Or perhaps he knew better.
I cannot possibly imagine what would have been going through the mind of a person who had decided that death is the only fix. But just a few hours before he hung himself, he took me to a room, gave me a speech of advice, which,  unfortunately I had forgotten for the most part, except that he insisted that I should not trouble my parents and that I should study well. Perhaps I would have been a better individual if he had stayed alive and guided me.
A dearly loved son, a beloved younger brother of five, a brilliant student, a charming person, a greatly respected and trusted friend of many, decided to end it once for all. I can't help but ask, "what is this life worth?"

No comments:

Post a Comment