I Told You So!

there is this innate sense of joy we experience in watching those who did not heed our advice fail! I know you might be thinking, "That's not true, I really feel bad for those poor souls!" but we know that's bullshit, so let us just cut the chase. We love having the realization that someone failed because they did not do it as we told them to!

But we aren't that sadistic. Our real kick comes from the fact that if you were wrong, then it automatically means that I am right! So it is this need of being proven right that drives this rather instinctual behaviour. But when the dust of the disaster settles and you look at the casualties: the countless who suffered, the money that was squandered, the time that was lost, the people who were left dejected, it just does not seem that fun anymore; or does it? This is what worried me: that people willfully refuse to see beyond the point of their argument at the bigger picture; the picture that they all are working for.


If an argument goes all the way around the world, it would cause nothing but chaos and destruction. Even a well constructed argument I have seen has only killed time and used little imagination. That because imagination truly lies not in your 'Right' but in another person's 'Wrong'. In an argument you choose to look at the issue as Black or White while imagination colours the mind with a million hues and shades! It is easy to argue on endlessly about why you are right and why someone else is wrong. Quite another story when you have to look at it the other way. Worse still when you have to take the best out of you so-called 'Right' and the other's so-called 'Wrong'.


I chanced upon something called 'Lateral Thinking' a couple of years ago and what inspired me about the concept was how little we seem to use it everyday. When asked to think from a different perspective, we begin to sweat, the brain begins to tingle and we begin to feel an out of body experience! And the funny thing is that this form of thinking was before us all along, right in front of our eyes. All we had to do was to choose it. But we never do, just like our ancestors never did when they believed in superstitions, when they said the earth was flat or when they called all forward thinking people heretics and witches! We commit this crime against all humanity to satiate our ego: an ego that does not know right from wrong, good from evil, ingenious from mundane, extraordinary from ordinary and calls whatever it wants to the truth.


I for one believe that the world will always continue to need more periods of 'Renaissance' with grater intensity and following for each of them and the serenity to for once choose choose Other's Rights over My Wrongs!

The House of Nightmares

i have been having some trouble sleeping the past few weeks. I hear something creaking and scratching its way through the wall behind my bed! It is the freakiest feeling to hear these sounds especially when you are trying to catch some sleep. I have tried to figure out logically what might be causing the sounds and try and stop it but seemed to be getting no more possibilities other than skeletons buried behind the wall or some spirit having some unfinished business!

I was, however, in no position to let these thoughts occupy my mind last weekend because they tend to reduce my sleep hours which means I cannot get up early in the morning for a special trip I was embarking on. My college friends and I were to join our Director General, Fr Paul Vaz on a trip to Tara Village which is located in the Panvel Taluka. A famous landmark in its vicinity is the Karnala Bird Sanctuary which makes this village ideal for winter picnics and an excellent location to go for meditation or a rejuvenation program. But we were not there for a rejuvenation of any sort. Infact we had our work cut out for the day with activities with children from a dozen villages all around this centre which is centrally located.

We had a wonderful time playing and singing with these kids and their teachers were delighted to see the kids really enjoying themselves. But it is not all fun and games for these children. They are sons and daughters of an unfortunate life their parents lead as Brick Kiln workers. And it is so because of the financial burden that they are kept under by their bosses, or should i call them 'masters'? They are paid bare minimum wages for the work they do which is making red bricks. An entire day they can make around 250 bricks for which they get paid something as low as Rs.100! How do they meet their expenses? The child's school fees and other expenses and the bills? What happens to them when they fall ill? This is certainly not enough and they know it. So out of desperation, they choose to let their children work with them and that could help them make a 750 bricks and get some more money for the family. And the maximum benefit out of this desperate choice goes to the brick kiln owner who sells the bricks made by burning away the future of the children in that same kiln in which their bricks bake!

But all hope was not lost, for the Jesuits (priests from the Society of Jesus) were there to give to their children education and give the families a new lease of life and hope. They started what is called as Bonga Shalla (Bonga means Bell which is rung in the areas where the parents make bricks and Shalla means School). These schools are make-shift huts built of the same straw that would have otherwise gone into making bricks and the teachers carry with them all the material they need for educating the children. This gives educational empowerment to these children who are most times migrating from South Maharashtra and North Karnataka to these places to work and the children complete just half a term sometimes in their homes. The schools gives them continuity in their education and the government gives these children letters which state that they have completed the term successfully at the Bonga Shalla.

However, the government is now cutting the flow of funds to these institutes because they are run by charitable institutions. The Jesuits would be able to manage the finances, but it still does put them under a sizable financial strain. They need to pay some sort of remuneration to the teachers who volunteer to teach the children. They need to purchase stationary and writing material to give out to the children. How do they continue meeting these needs over time?

Every night since then when I go to sleep and I hear those sounds behind my wall, I know it is the future of these children locked within the bricks and mortar that makes my house that is calling out to me. Will I be able to transform my house of Nightmares into an abode of Peace?