Written with Puja Narula
I sat alone in a coffee shop, slowly sipping on the shiny brown, frothy liquid topped with caramel and hogging on a brownie, the taste of which had attained a sort of divinity due to the add on chocolate sauce. I saw my friend, the same jobless jack a few tables away and tried to hide myself from his view. I did not want to be noticed, lest he comes over and destroy the good time I was having alone. But, to my misfortune, he saw me, waved, and joined me at the table. “Would you like to have a coffee?” I asked, “I’d pay for it,” I added sarcastically, "That should be fine", he said, “I am going to enjoy it more, if you pay for it.” I did not react to this, as I was already wary of his company, and thought that perhaps a cup of coffee and few empty gestures would make him go away and leave me in solitude. “So how's your work going?” he inquired, seeming very sincere. “Not too good, let me tell you. I am trying to get some orders for my company, but the circumstances aren't favoring me.” “You! You are trying to get the orders? I thought you guys worked as a team.” I looked away, “Oh yes, I meant that we are trying to get orders, it was just a part of speech.” “No it wasn't, it was your ego which was at the fore when you said that.” I immediately realized that the conversation was fast taking an downturn, and I did not want to get into a confrontation or even a discussion, especially at this point of time in my life when I was I was too busy alone. “So you've got a job?” I asked him, pointedly changing the topic. “No, I am planning to read some philosophy, and perhaps I'd become a philosopher one day.” I chuckled at his remark, “You intend to be jobless all your life?" "No," he replied immediately, "I would be around to guide people who've lost their way into this journey, and I might just do it for free for my friends, like I am doing it for you."
Despite everything that did to retain my calm, he still managed, very casually, to step onto an odd nerve. "How will you guide me?" I asked as a matter of fact, "What do you think is amiss?", "You are full of ego, and that’s not good for you; you need to be humble!" he remarked. "Yes," I admitted, "I am filled with ego which is sufficient to get me the freedom to work on things I like. A humble person may so often be used by others that he may get little or no time for the projects that are close to his heart." "Saying 'no' is not ego Ankur. It is being candid, and that's always acceptable." "Acceptable to whom? What if I told you that I dislike your company at this point of time; that I wanted to be alone, wouldn't you hate me for that?" I asked him almost brutally. "And yet you couldn't say it, because your ego makes you insecure of my dislike for you. Though you feel that you did not want me here, you did not have the courage to say no to me. My friend, however large be your ego, it belittles you."
I was speechless for a while, I needed to think. I needed to answer
him back. He had built a logical train of thought again, but I felt there was a
flaw; there was something that was amiss. "How does your humble person
get his job done?" I finally asked. "Well, it is a bit simpler for him I
suppose. He looks at
the merit of the projects he takes up and does not just believe in what
he thinks is right! He works hard to lead others into the pool, be it
his subordinates, and yet manages to do the most onerous task himself. A
humble man is a true leader for he leads by example, and yet admits his
mistake even midway. He destroys what he has built because he's not done it right, and
rebuilds. He believes in correcting himself, not like you, who'd do it
no matter what. You stop thinking, and that you think is
your strength. He thinks as he progresses; he improvises, and that helps
the job, that helps consolidate the sub-parts, that helps build the sustainable
solution."
I had to admit … it made sense. This
simple revelation and this simple man, who could’ve been a figment of my
imagination, could lead me again into
that minefield of self-churning. Ultimately I said, "You'd become a
philosopher one day, and you'd guide men like me.” He beamed his famous
smug. Yes, I
was the king of materialism here, I knew, but it dwarfed in front of
men whose driving force was their honesty to themselves. "I'll take your
leave now," he said as he stood up to leave, not even looking at me.
"There are more people around." I smiled, having lost and found myself
over a cup of coffee.
Copyrights: Ankur Beohar
Copyrights: Ankur Beohar
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