My analogy of hard work

We are shaped by beliefs. The way we thnk, act and speak ultimately arise from the sets of beliefs we have. That is what I think. 

That is why we should often question one's beliefs-check if there are any errors-and open up to new ideas. 

I have seen people working hard. But I have also come to think pressure and hard work are two different things. Some people pressurize thier hardwork. So much so that I have grown a little distaste to it. I think there are times when you can work hard and times when you can smart if off. 

Although I am no hard worker, I have thought about the idea and had an analogy, which might be used to explain it to kids. 

Once I was resting beneath a pine tree on the way home. I was around 15. 

I had some gooseberries in my pockets to chew on the way. 

The shadows of twilight were clmbing up on the other side of the mountain. 

I started to chew one. I would not do it normally but this time I was observing every moment carefully. 

As soon as I crashed it between my teeth, I heard it crack open. The bitterness spread throughout but I would not stop continuing the chewing. Why? I knew it tasted much better in the end. 

I was thinking "this is the same thing with doing hardwork".

We know hard work brings success. But we do not put in it still. Why? Because we do not have an immediate reward that chewing gooseberries bring on in reality. You are many times given the same bitter taste in the end despite "you" thinking you have given in all. 

That was what I thought. 

Lost in Sikkim

 

This tale happened once upon a time. It is a bit of history with a glamour of romance and comedy.  By chance, it has become my favorite that I often like to recollect at evenings.   

I always dreamt travelling. Preferably, in nature. And on the night of November 23, 1999, dad told me we were going to Sikkim the next week. I was 17 then.  I am 71 now and such fragments from my past floods whenever I am alone.

My dad was a professional bird-watcher. He fancied trees and weird birds. I guess that was why he chose Sikkim. His earnings were not big in addition. My mom left for the world beyond when I was four. Therefore, it was only two of us.

December 2, 1999.

 Halting a night at my aunt’s house in Phuntsholing, dad and I caught the train to Darjeeling. 

I felt for the first time. That feeling when I knew that my dream was unfurling. The more I gazed out of the window of the little train, I could smell the Himalaya again-this time with a flavour of spices in it; the blue pine and the stunted plants that were about to be robed in snow. I really wish you know that feeling.

 Around twilight, we reached there and we could feel home. This was my first time outside of my village and somehow I felt home. Darjeeling seemed to me like a swirling castle, like the DNA strands. My dad’s friend, Sangay Lepcha, who did the same course with him at Calcutta, came to pick us. And I wish again here! That you feel the classic aura of him. Easy to converse and a sense of humor hung over his mouth. We rode in his Audi to Yangtey, Sikkim.

 Uncle had rented a Britsih-built villa for us. And I said to dad that night “Dad, I might try to sleep in the attic. Like the British kids I saw in movies”. He winked at me. Sleep took my tiredness off and the cool air often found warmth on my cheeks. 

 Next morning, around dawn, there was a tap on my forehead. A soft one though. I guess this was the alarm. Amused, half awake, I opened my left eye small.  And there stood a girl.

 To my little surprise, she hushed in low voice, “Tea for you.”

 “Thanks” That was all I could mutter in response. 

She just smiled and stood there. Silence. We could hear the morning break with soft rustles of leaves and some unknown birds, similar to the ones in my village singing. 

"Whatever, just drink it. Many people say our tea is nicer". 

 Nothing more from her, she turns and goes to the veranda. 

 A little taller than me, uncannily egg-shaped face, attached ears and blue eyes and light skin! I was a bit surprised.  I went in the pretext of drinking tea to the veranda expecting her there. 

Hands rested on the wooden deck, she was just looking out. 

I was about to sip the tea when I realized that I could use it to start conversation. Bringing back the cup to my mouth, I told her,"Nice eyes"

 She turned her head towards me, stared and chuckled. 

“Drink your tea” 

“Was your dad a English? Or your mom?”

“How do you know?” she asked me back. 

“Dad. I came here for vacation". At last a wry smile. "I like it here"

The morning was fully broken then and she quickly said, “Ohh! I forgot to get tea for your dad.” She went downstairs and I heard her say, “See you in the evening”

Some people can fascinate you more than anything. It was only few moments but I realized I was liking her than the place I came to.