He steadily made his way through the congested roads,
staying on one side the whole time, the long cane tapping left and right for
guidance. Not once did he flinch or halt, completely confident about his senses
leading him to the right path. I watched in complete awe as this blind man
maneuvered his way expertly through the crowded traffic. I couldn’t help but
gape at him, stunned at his precision and comfort of the streets, despite his
disability. People stepped aside quickly, afraid to get in the man’s way. But,
the blind man he kept his head up, and kept walking along steadily. Tap, tap,
tap…
I
don’t think I’ve ever seen such a sight in my life until I moved to India. The
simplest things, which we sometimes tend to overlook are the most important.
I’m sure you’ve all heard that before, but yet you still manage to complain
about your daily struggles. I know I do, but after seeing this man today I came
to a realization, I have so much, yet I’m still not content. This man did not have
eyes, but did not show a hint of sorrow, depression, or struggle in the
confident way that he walked. So
I thought I’d write about this today…
Then
there are the vendors, who amuse me on a day to day basis. They climb aboard
the trains balancing giant baskets of flowers, vegetables, or racks of junk
items. The art of balancing is hard enough, yet these people manage to do it
while balancing a crying child on their hips! Vendors are spread out all over
the city.
Walking
through the bustling Tambaram market, the endless chatter of bargaining rings
through my ears. The vegetable vendors toss up their hands in distress,
refusing to agree with the persistent customers. They sit cross-legged, their
sarees pulled up high for comfort. They adeptly dig out change from their inner
blous, while simultaneously calculating and shuffling it over to the customer.
Spinach leaves lay scattered, as tomatoes roll out into the messy walkways. But
everyone is aware of the scene, and knows exactly where to step as they patrol
through the chaos. The entire process is so mesmerizing, as they don’t miss a
beat!
Then,
there’s the coffee man strolling through narrow alleyways, methodically pouring
chai from one steel glass to the next. He doesn’t spill a drop, and smoothly
hands it over to the customer.
There
is a systematic method in the non-systematic environment, which exists in
India. As I wait for my college bus, there is this lady who sweeps the
‘sidewalks’ every morning. There is a steady rhythm of the ‘jhadoos’ (brooms)
and the strokes hitting the grounds. Keeping her eyes fixated on the ground,
she never hesitates nor breaks the rhythm. You are forced to move away from
her, as she robotically moves through the sidewalk without averting her eyes
from the ground.
In
my eyes, ordinary becomes extraordinary here in India. Every beat, every move,
every step is something to take in. Despite the struggles and madness that
people in this country have to face on a daily basis, I honestly commend their
abilities, as ordinary as they may be.
