How about asking Chottu his real name?
Would you like to spend your entire life being called Nikki or Chottu? Shakespeare may have said ‘a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’, but not in this situation. In Punjab villages, every young boy is Chottu, and every young girl working at home is Nikki. They are always introduced by their names, but slowly one starts calling them Chottu and Nikki. You may shake your head in denial and say no, but it is true. We’ve all done it, and continue to do it, for we don’t think they are important enough to be remembered by their name. It’s a ‘chalta hai’ attitude that Punjabis are so guilty of.
Next time, call them by the name they are given, and you will be rewarded with a smile and a much greater efficiency. The personal touch that is so missing in our lives leads to stronger bonds. No one, if they could avoid it, would ever be a slave to someone else, and that too a faceless one.
Arvind is a young boy; he wants to be an actor, but is stuck in Punjab that is more economically sound for him. It is stifling, the food, the culture, the language, everything browbeats him into submission. He has no name but is ‘oye Chottu’ to everyone, and all he does is sweep the lawns of all leaves. Aren’t leaves supposed to fall? Isn’t there a change in season? But his destiny seems stuck in a cog in some nondescript village. The biting cold makes him want to buy a muffler, but the phone minutes and talk time eat into his salary.
Sunita, a young Christian girl, is both a maid and a professional choir singer who has a tutor coming to teach her. She works all day long but her dreams make her soar. All that she is concerned about is her salary, and how to make it stretch so that she can educate herself.
Their life is all about making it through the day in one piece, and stretching the rupee. These ordinary people are the real heroes. Try striking a conversation with them and you will get a peek into life most extraordinary. Take the case of Sunil, a sweeper in the emergency ward of PGI, who cleans the ward with a zeal most holy. I am grateful to Asha, the old nurse who brought me a cup of tea just because I needed it. In moments of adversity, help often comes from people who you would ordinarily never bother about.
Society these days has become so jaded that we don’t expect kindness, empathy, sympathy or even basic manners from others. But, help does come from unexpected quarters, to borrow from my favourite book Harry Potter. I am grateful to the person who handed me a sweet when I was lost, panic-stricken in a real life emergency. Thank you, Sir. You are truly divine. I wish I knew your name.
Empathy is what makes us truly human. There is no substitute for it. After reading this, try asking your helper a few questions and delve into her life; it will make all the difference.
THE PERSONAL TOUCH THAT IS MISSING IN OUR LIVES LEADS TO STRONGER BONDS. NO ONE, IF THEY COULD AVOID IT, WOULD EVER BE A SLAVE TO SOMEONE ELSE, AND THAT TOO A FACELESS ONE.