As a writer one is a sucker for idioms. But this week seems special, feels special,
and maybe ends up with lasting gains. At times like these, it feels like all
the cards are falling in place and prayfully someone else does not put down the RUMMY.
But then there is this old age
maturity that values prudence over sudden bursts of good fortune accruing to
long standing gains. Don’t count the chickens before they are hatched is a call
for patience; which is more in tune to anyone approaching 50 on the scale and
who has had my kind of turbulent life.
Let me address the dead past for
there is a belief that once you CORRECT the past the future automatically is
course corrected. My mother PARVATHI is 78 with one foot on the grave. She did
as much damage as an asura can do in life. I have a natural forgiving nature
and “wipe the slate clean” mentality. I still feel helpless that I cannot do a
thing to drill any sense into this woman. But I have learnt this lesson:
Forgive her but don’t transact. In fact I don’t even look at her face while
speaking; avoid as much as possible.
pUsHpa is exactly similar. Even to
store the images of the PAST in a better light is not possible; she is too
egoistic and high-handed. Here again my
attitude is IF MY MOTHER and this SINDHI are trapped in a burning house and
none to rescue, they will roast to death and I will not lift a little finger. Of
all the worst things DESTINY has in store for me in this life and beyond, I
feel an enormous relief that I have gone past these two stodgy irascible
characters. There were the scums of humanity, the very pits, and so any other
character coming into my life will be more a cakewalk than a trial by fire. These two are bank accounts that's closed; no point either depositing or withdrawing from non-existent obsolete account.
On 23rd May, I learnt that
the interview at MINDLOGICX came a cropper. This
felt a hard smack on the head. This was my
first interview in four years; they ran the entire sequence from shortlisting,
telephonic interview to a personal interview at Bangalore where I met the VP
and Managing Director. I felt the bird was in the bag and so this came as a bit
of a shock.
Then
on 24th May things started to change. It is one of my special days
in a long long long time.
At
7:30 am Smita Narayan from my IMT days of 1990-92 called on my landline. She said, “I like
your writing. I want you to edit my book. So as a hiring fee, I am transferring 50 k
today.” She fixed a price far too high and paid the money – something I have
not seen in the last 12 years since I turned a professional writer. This
brought a lot of colour to the face, energy to the heart, felt that the
universe had not entirely abandoned me. Smita also added, “There is a demand
for good writers. I will speak to my celebrity friends and also ex-IMT people
and see how best I can help you.”
At
11;00 on the same day Arunanjali called; again a IMT alumnus. We passed out in
1992 and almost every one of them is a VP is a MNC bank or a Airtel or a
Samsung while I never got started as a marketing fellow. I followed my heart and
passion settling for a penurious peddler of words in a graveyard Chennai of a
market. No cribs as long as I earned enough to bring food to the table; my
aspirations never rose higher than this since my birth in 1969.
Anu
spoke from Hong Kong and she was like, “Smita was talking about you. I run a
soft skill company both in Chennai and HK and maybe we can involve you. Meet my
person there and we will take it from there.”
I
felt in seventh heaven. Two of my batchmate from the remotest past of 1992 called
me up and said, “We have some faith in you and we will help you tide over in your hunt for a gainful
occupation and earning part bit.” There is something readily resonating part in
us when people from past come into the present bearing fruits and you are in
need of them with the urgency of a next meal. As my Dhamma friend Mani Sir said
the next day, “This is last ball six in a IPL match to win.”
These
two calls got me gloating and thinking: maybe I am not all that bad. There are
unknown virtues and skills within me when I ran into TV Ramprasad the famous
singer at Vishranti over a tiffin. He was the one who sent me to Abu Dhabi; and I avoided his face for a
good couple years after the rough weather I experienced there from a devil
called Mohan Natesan. TVR said, “Sathya, I am on the look-out for a soft skill
trainer at Mahindra School. Would you be interested? Say 3 days a week and how
about 25k?” I said, “I have not earned such monies in a couple of years and so
will be glad. Thanks man, this news helps me save my M-90 for 2018.”
Three
good news in one single day is not something I have had since my father and
mother copulated in the dinghy rooms at TSV koil Street in Mylapore in 1968.
More was to come the next day. Paarvathy Rajiv is one of those FB friends and
she seemed to have read my last post: the answer is SURRENDER. She wrote to me:
my sister is in Dubai and is a recruiter. If you are interested in a career in
Dubai, kindly register with her and she will find a job for you within a month.
There is a small registration fee; but what the hell if it gives you some
confidence and hope. I jumped at the offer and started daydreaming shaking
hands with the Arabs after that conversation.
The
point of this post is this: it takes very little for darkness to go away. You
could be trapped in a dungeon for a decade but it takes a little flame to light
and awash your mind with light and hope.
As
a prudent man, everything can be washed away in a second. Smita may cancel her
order in which case I have to return the money; nothing may transpire from Anu’s
soft skill training, Ramprasad may not make a formal offer on the Mahindra
School, and the Dubai thing may fizzle out. But for the moment, I dance with
joy. I get to meet people who care for me and wish me to succeed. Maybe some
prayers will come true; just maybe even my stubborn fate may see a
resurrection.