At crossroads

As the signal flashed a ‘Don’t Walk’, I was distracted by an abrupt purr. I looked around and discovered, next to me, a cat on the pavement. It seemed unruffled, with a definite expression on its face, and was very persistently wagging its bushy tail.

I am not an animal person (and it didn’t seem like a people cat), so I wasn't able to interpret the expression on its face- was it baffled or was it grumpy?

With its head lifted up, showing its black and white chest, it seemed waiting for me to reciprocate, moving its ears impatiently as if directing them to hear what I had yet not spoken.

I looked around again. I watched the busy street. I wondered if it required help to cross the street. I took the first step, it followed. Amazing, I thought, a cat and I were at crossroads, literally!

(After we crossed over, I noticed the second similarity- both of us were slightly overweight, but that isn't so relevant here).

People I meet

Because of the nature of my occupation, I happen to encounter new people every day. I do well to remember their faces and their names for the most part, and as I meet them again, days or weeks later, in the corridor or in the elevator, I quickly recognize them, smile, and say an acknowledging hello!

(There are occurrences however, albeit rarely, when somebody walks into my office, greets me with a grin and a remarkably firm hand shake, while I strive and fail to recall his or her name in those speeding moments. A bit awkwardly then I try steadying the ship, saying without much seeming conviction something like, “I certainly remember having met you but I am so embarrassed I am not able to recollect you name”. That isn’t good for a conversation starter, so it barely helps, and leaves me feeling quite odd and incapable- a whole lot more odd and incapable than failing to recollect my Internet banking password every fortnight!).

Now this isn’t about my occupation per se (we shall speak about the trials and tribulations of my occupation another day). The point I started off making is about that the most fascinating part of my occupation which undoubtedly is the chance to get to meet with new people every day- people who are talented, and hardworking, and successful, and at the same time warm, and modest, and considerate; people who I delightfully interact with, or who inspire me in one way or the other, or who even influence how I do what I do; people who are enthusiastic, and expressive, and often funny; people who are very different from the other as to how they approach a problem, or what kind of coffee they drink, or their upbringing, and even their backgrounds (as in physical backgrounds like deserts, oceans or mountains- because they come from every corner of the world!).

Even as I walk the path of life, I realize, it is the wonderful people I have met along the way that ranks among the best of life’s experiences. It is amongst these admirable ones I have found those that have gone on to become my friends- friends that I as enjoyably have a conversation with today, as I foresee having, when I am possibly ninety years old!

Time flies!

And that's true! So much so, that I couldn’t write a single post in the first six weeks of this year. As you get older, the days, months, and years seem to pass more quickly!

January was fantastic mainly because of the gifts and the New Year greetings I kept receiving through the month. It felt nice to catch up with friends, old and new, exchange emails, or even speak, and be reassured that everyone’s still around, just an email or a call away. And there was this greeting, I recall, that made me sentimental- a card from a friend that came in by post. Honestly, I do not remember the last time I walked into a post office to buy an Inland letter card or a postcard or even a stamp. I do remember, however, that as a young boy, it was solely my responsibility in the family to run with the letters my parents or my siblings wrote, and drop them in the somewhat capsule-shaped, bright red coloured post boxes. And I remember how I always double-checked, rather dutifully, if the letters I deposited, freely passed through the aperture. Very rarely, I would also bump into this person who would empty the box into his khaki bag, and cycle away. I don’t see these post boxes, or these men, in my city any longer.

February was relatively unfantastic. I needed to submit my investment proofs by the first week- my last chance at saving my tax deductions. So, I snapped into action, and made a whole lot of investments. Well, I am as good with investments now, as I was with Calculus in school! I simply don’t comprehend them. I don’t comprehend the purpose of spending my earnings to get a return twenty years hence, when I am not certain about what I would be doing two years from now (it is uncertain people like these who need to invest even more, you would perhaps argue). But what if I became so rich in the next twenty years that I didn’t even require these investments? I would have wasted my entire life’s sacrifices. What a loss!

I could have bought a Beetle instead. And some mocktails on a warm afternoon like this. One that I drank last was called “To get her”- hard to believe a mocktail could have such an intriguing name!