Making that difference

I was just spending a lazy Sunday afternoon watching television, when I heard the door bell ring. I answered the door, only to see a young boy holding some household items to sell. These door to door salesmen were a nuisance to us. Instinctively I waved my hand gesturing that I was least interested in whatever he was trying to sell, and started closing the door. It was then I noticed a sense of desperation on his face. I opened the door and decided to hear him out.

He was a student of class XII and depended on scholarships from a local school to continue his education. I asked him, how would he manage his school expenses by selling these household items from door to door. He told me that for his scholarship, he needed to pay a sum of rupees 250 and the school would approve education worth rupees five thousand. He was selling these items so that he could complete his target and earn his commission. He was being helped by a local grocery merchant, who agreed to pay him 250 rupees if he sold 20 bottles of a toilet cleaner from a local company. And that was what he had been selling from door to door all day long.

He pleaded that last two bottles remained to be sold, and if I would buy them for hundred rupees, he would have sold all of them and collect his commission to avail the school scholarship. If he could not make it by the next day, he could forfeit the scholarship money. That made me think for a while. I am used to such door to door sales people and each one has his own story. So I could not believe this one to be true either. Still I asked him one question,"For last how many houses have you told that you have last two bottled to be sold yet?" He did not have an answer for that. The silence was enough for me to believe that the boy was probably not telling the truth. I offered to give him fifty rupees and not take the bottles instead. I was not interested in buying them as I saw no worth at all. The boy refused. He said if he accepts the money, he would still have to go to other households to sell these bottles. He would get the commission from the grocery merchant only when he sells all of them. So it was all or nothing for him.By now, I was convinced that he was telling the truth. I told him I will pay him the money but not buy the stuff. Rather he can take it with him and donate it to the school that he studies at. He was supposed to go back to the merchant with money made from selling all the bottles. So he agreed to come again to collect the bottles from me the next day, and left with the money, assured that he will make it through another year in school.

Not just this boy, but few months back another incident made me think matters over. It was more of a realization, than the urge to help. I was in a market place parking my bike, when a small boy selling chanas came to me. I was in a hurry, but still felt my pocket for any change that I could spare. I told him I can't buy because I don't have change. His reply was more of a question."You don't even have two rupees change?". There was something deeper in meaning in what he said. It was not that I did not have money, but it challenged my willingness to buy anything from him. I paused for a while, reached for my wallet, took out a ten rupees note and asked him to pack chanas worth ten rupees.  I relaxed on my bike and started enjoying the hot chanas he gave me. Curiously, I started asking how much he had studied, where was he from, how much money did he make. He replied honestly and in turn asked me that how much did I make. I did not boast, but mentioned some five digit figures with utmost modesty. And also said that its the education that made the difference. I studied through my school and did my engineering, which has helped me earn better and live a good life. Having all this conversation with this chanawala and sharing the chanas with him was a different experience all together.

I could go on with narrating countless such incidences that happen everyday to me, you or anyone else. But what happens next? Either we choose to turn a blind eye to them or step up and do our part.I am glad I did. I also recently sponsored education of a girl child for one year by voluntarily donating to an NGO. Months back, I had written this blog 'Little Angel', which narrates an imaginary story, but it took me some time to practise what I preached. I am yet to receive further details as to how my donation is helping some girl through her studies, but I am assured that I am doing my part by giving back to the society in some way that is possible and I can go to sleep tonight with a sense of satisfaction and pride for being there and making that difference.

Little Angel

I was standing at that phase of life where school and college had done their best to groom me and a brand new world was waiting for me to reach out. Soon I took up a job and was excelling well. Being grateful to the education I have had, I took the privilege to live a well to do life, away from the real struggles.

During course of a seminar that I attended, there was an appeal for people to come forward and give back to the society, starting in any humble way one could. They were arranging a field trip to the areas of the city where people were less privileged. Curiosity got the most of me and I went along. The sight that met my eyes was not a pleasing one.

People were living, rather surviving, devoid of basic education bringing in unemployment and poverty. The NGO volunteers were explaining how all could help to levitate these people from their plight. While listening to their plea, I glanced across to a little girl playing by herself, unaware of what was going on around her. "Hello there. What is you name? What do you do?” I asked. She looked back with bright eyes and a vibrant smile. "I am Jyoti. I would like to go to school”. That reply caught my attention. She deserved to go to school, but poverty was holding her back. I decided to do something. A humble way to repay the society. I volunteered with the NGO to bear the expense of Jyoti's education. My eagerness was rightly aided by the NGO volunteers and I was promised that they would watch the progress of the girl and keep me informed.

Jyoti started her schooling soon. She was a bright student. The brightest of all, doing well in Math and English. I arranged a visit to the school, later that month, to see her. She had written her name on a slate and was showing it to me with great pride. The little angel was getting what she deserved.

Soon, I moved out of the city and took a job elsewhere. But the NGO kept me aware of Jyoti's excellence at academics and other socio-cultural activities. As her name suggests, she was a bright light that would shed the darkness of illiteracy and ignorance. Over the years, I stopped getting letters from the NGO. "Obviously", I thought. She must have moved on from school to college and then to wherever destiny would take her.

I am retiring next year. Life has had its pace. And today as I see my children do well in their professions, somehow I am reminded of the little angel who must be about their age. Just a bit older.

Last month, some money matters took me to a bank. With all the advances in the banking procedures and influence of technology, it was rather difficult to find out things as simple as opening an account. But the banking executive assured me with all the formalities without much waiting. I was gratified with such warm treatment. "What is your name young lady?", I asked. There was a moment of silence.

The little angel then drew a slate from under the table and wrote her name for me.