Thanksgiving!
Needing help and seeking help are two different things. Getting help from an unexpected quarter is another dimension altogether. It’s easy to be grateful of the assistance received at the moment of need and easier even to forget later – whether one gets an opportunity to pay back or not. But when we remember those hours of need being met, there’s this warm feeling that envelopes us.
I know I’m infinitely lucky and fortunate to have had so many beautiful experiences. It’s always been like this through my life. It’s though the first time I’m trying to talk about them this way. Here’s a recount of those moments of gratitude that I felt in 2006.
Strange(r) Encounters
1 January 2006. The wee hours after the New Year’s party. I’d ventured to Thimphu, alone, to a disco (Space 34) though I was an absolute newbie in the country (and it was my maiden visit to Thimphu proper). After a rocking party, I set out, wanting to head back home. It was freezing cold (-9 degree Celsius). There were no cabs in sight. I’d assumed they’d be available and hence had not asked anyone to pick me up after the party (Welcome to Bhutan)! All hotels were closed. I walked back to the disc. I haltingly asked someone if I could find a cab now. “Where do you want to go?” “Semtokha. I’m from Dantak”. He didn’t answer immediately but went back to his friend, spoke to him and came back. “You won’t get any cab now. We ourselves are waiting to be picked up and dropped by a friend. You may join us. Our place falls close to Dantak. You may walk from there”. Soon a Swift pulled over and this young guy asked me to hop in. “We live in Chang ji ji” he tried to make a conversation. “What do you do?” “I work as a finance guy”. “Oh!” Soon it was the place to get off. “Can you find your way from here?” he asked. “Would you please guide me? This was the first time I’ve ventured out of Semtokha”. “It’s straight road from here. After the bridge you’ve to take a left turn. It’s about 2kms …”. His friend who was quiet all this while interrupted, “Don’t bother to walk at this hour. Crash at my place”. “Are you sure?” I asked. “No problems if you don’t mind”. So I headed to this guy’s home.
It was 5 when we reached his house. The one I had spoken to was Dawa. His friend was Gurung. Dawa studies in Bangalore while Gurung works for the Customs department. Dawa insisted that he’d cook a meal (at that hour). He made emadatsi – THE dish of Bhutan, made of cheese, tomatoes and a LOT of chillies – and served it with rice (I ignored his offer of dried fish). He made hilarious attempts at conversing with me in Kannada. It was past 6 in the morning when we all crashed.
I owe my life to these two guys. I surely would’ve lost my way even if I’d tried to walk back (based on their directions). I’m certain that the ferocious mountain dogs that one encounters on the way would have shred me to pieces (I’d have been good meat as I’m pretty scared of dogs).
Virtual Help
It was MM who introduced me to MP. I didn’t know then the kind of turns my life would take. Nor did I know that MP – the guys of MP actually – would come to save me from the blues.
MP has introduced me to new, talented and beautiful friends. It’s – through all discussions, forwards, write-ups and arguments – helped me accept the person I am in a positive light, given the strength to discover courage in me that I rarely knew existed and helped me grow. I must specifically mention FTP (and his mother) here. FTP wrote about his own life experiences – of his struggles, of his mother’s love for him and his siblings. His writings from the heart tugged my tear-strings but above all taught me that there’s so much HOPE in life. I’m so glad he’s a friend.
I continue to be its member, although less active than I used to be earlier.
Honey, I shrink the troubles
I must specially remember AV – Honey as I sometimes call him. There’s this strange connection between us. He sense when I am down and writes to me or calls me to enquire about me. I curiously can relate to many issues that occupy his mindspace. We ALMOST share birthdays. There can be long silences between the two too. AV manifests from thin air each time I’m feeling low and soothes away the blues – like a steam iron smoothing away the wrinkles. I sorely realize I’ve not been there for him when he needed someone around.
I’m very Charlie
Maj. NSC. He’s the meanie of Dantak. Everyone loves to hate him. He’s always up to some trick or the other as to how to pull a fast one, how to make a profit out of a situation or how to berate a fellow colleague. However he’s been a different person altogether with me. He’s taken me on treks, invited me home on innumerable occasions to keep me occupied, taught me the secrets of fitness at the gym, introduced me to new people (Yeshi the pilot, Pema, the Customs guy, to name a few), shown me all the ‘right places’ of Thimphu for shopping (“you must buy your salad vegetables from her”, currency exchange (“Sir, you get the best deals from him; much better than the bank rates”), eat-outs (“Plums is the best bakery in town”).
I don’t know (or care) if he’s tried any fast one on me nor do I know (or care) if he went around gossiping about me. All I know is that he has been great company.
Your mother, my mother…
“There’s no point in you taking so many silk saris. We hardly would be going out anyone’s place” I admonished mom as she was packing her bags on her maiden travel to Bhutan. I’d seen that whenever parents visited their children’s families here, hardly anyone else called them home. They were relegated to their own homes and families. I reluctantly allowed her to pack just 6 ‘good’ saris that weren’t for daily use. How wrong I was!
Mom stayed in Bhutan for over a month. From the day she arrived people kept coming home to talk to her and keep her company – despite the language barrier. Mom would talk in Kannada and the other ladies (and often the men too) would speak to her in Hindi. Mom kept getting invitations from almost everyone – for not just dinner or lunch; even for breakfast! Mom was invited for the cocktail parties (and there were many during her stay), dinners, anniversaries, special poojas – people promptly would touch her feet as she’d arrive and seek her blessings. Mom was even taken out to various restaurants for lunches and dinners. The ladies took her to Thimphu to shop. Capt. Sunil arranged a special trip to the Chelela Pass so that she could see snow and snow-clad mountains for the first time in her life! Col. KM (and family) ensured that my mom reached home safely by taking her along when they flew home. They also showed her Kolkata! Surely I’m blessed.
Beautiful Stranger
I was quite worked up with the worsening situation at my sister’s place. She was going through a harrowing time of abuse, depression and professional blues. On a day when these things reached a pinnacle I logged in to find a new friend. While talking I learnt that he works for an NGO. I found it easy (probably because I didn’t know him and nor did he) to talk to him about the requirement of help for my sister (who lives in the UK). He went out of his way, called up and spoke to people, gave me the reference of VL (who in turn gave the contacts that offered help in the UK). RS (I’ve not asked him – as with any other written about here – if I could use his name) didn’t have any reason to go out of his way, call on roaming and help me but he did. What he did saved my sister’s life. What he does in life gave me food for thought. Salut!
You’ve got mail
On one of the days when I met LR on chat, he confessed to being slightly feeling low. “I haven’t been doing the assignments that are long overdue” he confessed. In a while we two were talking over the phone. I barely asked about his well-being, nor did I make any effort to whisk his blues away. Twenty minutes over phone and he thanked me for talking to him. And he sent me an email. The most beautiful message I received in 2006! I reproduce that with his permission here.
Dear Sudhir,
I know I’m infinitely lucky and fortunate to have had so many beautiful experiences. It’s always been like this through my life. It’s though the first time I’m trying to talk about them this way. Here’s a recount of those moments of gratitude that I felt in 2006.
Strange(r) Encounters
1 January 2006. The wee hours after the New Year’s party. I’d ventured to Thimphu, alone, to a disco (Space 34) though I was an absolute newbie in the country (and it was my maiden visit to Thimphu proper). After a rocking party, I set out, wanting to head back home. It was freezing cold (-9 degree Celsius). There were no cabs in sight. I’d assumed they’d be available and hence had not asked anyone to pick me up after the party (Welcome to Bhutan)! All hotels were closed. I walked back to the disc. I haltingly asked someone if I could find a cab now. “Where do you want to go?” “Semtokha. I’m from Dantak”. He didn’t answer immediately but went back to his friend, spoke to him and came back. “You won’t get any cab now. We ourselves are waiting to be picked up and dropped by a friend. You may join us. Our place falls close to Dantak. You may walk from there”. Soon a Swift pulled over and this young guy asked me to hop in. “We live in Chang ji ji” he tried to make a conversation. “What do you do?” “I work as a finance guy”. “Oh!” Soon it was the place to get off. “Can you find your way from here?” he asked. “Would you please guide me? This was the first time I’ve ventured out of Semtokha”. “It’s straight road from here. After the bridge you’ve to take a left turn. It’s about 2kms …”. His friend who was quiet all this while interrupted, “Don’t bother to walk at this hour. Crash at my place”. “Are you sure?” I asked. “No problems if you don’t mind”. So I headed to this guy’s home.
It was 5 when we reached his house. The one I had spoken to was Dawa. His friend was Gurung. Dawa studies in Bangalore while Gurung works for the Customs department. Dawa insisted that he’d cook a meal (at that hour). He made emadatsi – THE dish of Bhutan, made of cheese, tomatoes and a LOT of chillies – and served it with rice (I ignored his offer of dried fish). He made hilarious attempts at conversing with me in Kannada. It was past 6 in the morning when we all crashed.
I owe my life to these two guys. I surely would’ve lost my way even if I’d tried to walk back (based on their directions). I’m certain that the ferocious mountain dogs that one encounters on the way would have shred me to pieces (I’d have been good meat as I’m pretty scared of dogs).
Virtual Help
It was MM who introduced me to MP. I didn’t know then the kind of turns my life would take. Nor did I know that MP – the guys of MP actually – would come to save me from the blues.
MP has introduced me to new, talented and beautiful friends. It’s – through all discussions, forwards, write-ups and arguments – helped me accept the person I am in a positive light, given the strength to discover courage in me that I rarely knew existed and helped me grow. I must specifically mention FTP (and his mother) here. FTP wrote about his own life experiences – of his struggles, of his mother’s love for him and his siblings. His writings from the heart tugged my tear-strings but above all taught me that there’s so much HOPE in life. I’m so glad he’s a friend.
I continue to be its member, although less active than I used to be earlier.
Honey, I shrink the troubles
I must specially remember AV – Honey as I sometimes call him. There’s this strange connection between us. He sense when I am down and writes to me or calls me to enquire about me. I curiously can relate to many issues that occupy his mindspace. We ALMOST share birthdays. There can be long silences between the two too. AV manifests from thin air each time I’m feeling low and soothes away the blues – like a steam iron smoothing away the wrinkles. I sorely realize I’ve not been there for him when he needed someone around.
I’m very Charlie
Maj. NSC. He’s the meanie of Dantak. Everyone loves to hate him. He’s always up to some trick or the other as to how to pull a fast one, how to make a profit out of a situation or how to berate a fellow colleague. However he’s been a different person altogether with me. He’s taken me on treks, invited me home on innumerable occasions to keep me occupied, taught me the secrets of fitness at the gym, introduced me to new people (Yeshi the pilot, Pema, the Customs guy, to name a few), shown me all the ‘right places’ of Thimphu for shopping (“you must buy your salad vegetables from her”, currency exchange (“Sir, you get the best deals from him; much better than the bank rates”), eat-outs (“Plums is the best bakery in town”).
I don’t know (or care) if he’s tried any fast one on me nor do I know (or care) if he went around gossiping about me. All I know is that he has been great company.
Your mother, my mother…
“There’s no point in you taking so many silk saris. We hardly would be going out anyone’s place” I admonished mom as she was packing her bags on her maiden travel to Bhutan. I’d seen that whenever parents visited their children’s families here, hardly anyone else called them home. They were relegated to their own homes and families. I reluctantly allowed her to pack just 6 ‘good’ saris that weren’t for daily use. How wrong I was!
Mom stayed in Bhutan for over a month. From the day she arrived people kept coming home to talk to her and keep her company – despite the language barrier. Mom would talk in Kannada and the other ladies (and often the men too) would speak to her in Hindi. Mom kept getting invitations from almost everyone – for not just dinner or lunch; even for breakfast! Mom was invited for the cocktail parties (and there were many during her stay), dinners, anniversaries, special poojas – people promptly would touch her feet as she’d arrive and seek her blessings. Mom was even taken out to various restaurants for lunches and dinners. The ladies took her to Thimphu to shop. Capt. Sunil arranged a special trip to the Chelela Pass so that she could see snow and snow-clad mountains for the first time in her life! Col. KM (and family) ensured that my mom reached home safely by taking her along when they flew home. They also showed her Kolkata! Surely I’m blessed.
Beautiful Stranger
I was quite worked up with the worsening situation at my sister’s place. She was going through a harrowing time of abuse, depression and professional blues. On a day when these things reached a pinnacle I logged in to find a new friend. While talking I learnt that he works for an NGO. I found it easy (probably because I didn’t know him and nor did he) to talk to him about the requirement of help for my sister (who lives in the UK). He went out of his way, called up and spoke to people, gave me the reference of VL (who in turn gave the contacts that offered help in the UK). RS (I’ve not asked him – as with any other written about here – if I could use his name) didn’t have any reason to go out of his way, call on roaming and help me but he did. What he did saved my sister’s life. What he does in life gave me food for thought. Salut!
You’ve got mail
On one of the days when I met LR on chat, he confessed to being slightly feeling low. “I haven’t been doing the assignments that are long overdue” he confessed. In a while we two were talking over the phone. I barely asked about his well-being, nor did I make any effort to whisk his blues away. Twenty minutes over phone and he thanked me for talking to him. And he sent me an email. The most beautiful message I received in 2006! I reproduce that with his permission here.
Dear Sudhir,
It was really good to connect with you today. I have been able to shake off the blues sufficiently to:
- call up the folks who are waiting for my report and ask them to wait a bit more.
- go to put clothes in the washer
- take a shower
- invite myself over to my maternal uncle's place for lunch
I feel rather silly typing this all up, but believe me - these were all things I couldn't bring myself to do, immobilised as I had been because of feeling low.You are so good to me.thanks and hugs,
LR
I must be proud of all the friends, colleagues and acquaintances I have. It’s so easy to pick on things and keep cribbing. I too give in to it at times. But as I reminisce all the happy moments of 2006 I know my thanks are due to all these beautiful people who made my year so much better. And, I’m certain that I have missed out many others here. My thanks to them too; and apologies too, for not having written about them here.
posted by Quintessential Critic (Sudhir Narayana) @ 11:58 AM
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