<p>It was Monday morning. With a whole lot of to-do checklist, I go to my garage to pull my scooter out — only to notice the rear wheel tyre of the vehicle flat. Almost instantly, my enthusiasm too falls flat! With a sense of inevitable resignation, I push the vehicle to the main thoroughfare in search of a vulcanising shop.<br /><br />Across the 80ft road pavement, amidst a series of petty stalls, I notice a small makeshift workshop with a couple of old tyres hung on the branches of a tree like the beacon for a lost ship. Relieved, I hasten to find a place to park my two-wheeler.<br /><br />A burly young lad, Salman, of roughly 4ft height, aged about 12 years, appears from nowhere and directs me to park the vehicle, signalling like a just landed aircraft to its designated slot. Without much ado, he gets on to the job, displaying a great deal of professional competence and seems deeply engrossed in pulling out the damaged tube from the stubborn tyre, relentlessly hammering the wheel frame.<br /><br />Just then a smart, well-dressed young man, with his laptop hung across his shoulder, stops by. He demands immediate attention to his two-wheeler dickey lock which had given way. Salman looks up, with his sharp focused eyes and sweat ridden tender face, acknowledges the presence of the new customer, but asks him to ‘wait’ without a word spoken.<br /><br />In a display of perfect professional acumen in order to retain the customer, he quickly gets up, glances at the dicky and delivers his ‘expert’ opinion. The young man is directed to bring a new lock of specific size, dimension and Salman returns to his work. The man with the laptop drives away towards the guided direction in absolute compliance.<br /><br />Meanwhile, my problem is fixed. All through, I stood in awe and admiration for this little lad who demonstrated all the command in what he was doing. He would have had hardly any schooling and his uncle had put him in this workshop for assistance. I lost almost one precious hour, but returned richly benefited by the silent lesson the boy taught me.<br />Employed for a leading insurance company as a development officer, the hostile economic environment coupled with a strong wind of recession taking its toll on the sales, this experience gave my sagging self-confidence a boost.<br /><br />I learnt three lessons: First, if one grows up to be emotionally unstable, it is his parents’ mistake. If one is not intelligent as others, it’s the God’s mistake. However, if one doesn’t put in more effort than others, it will be his mistake.<br /><br />Second, I realised it does not matter what I have, but what really matters is what I do with what I have.<br /><br />Third, what happens to me is not under my control, but what happens through me is absolutely under my control.<br /><br />Though late, I drove straight to my office without a sense of remorse, the voice of love redesigning the blueprint of my life for a purposeful living.</p>
<p>It was Monday morning. With a whole lot of to-do checklist, I go to my garage to pull my scooter out — only to notice the rear wheel tyre of the vehicle flat. Almost instantly, my enthusiasm too falls flat! With a sense of inevitable resignation, I push the vehicle to the main thoroughfare in search of a vulcanising shop.<br /><br />Across the 80ft road pavement, amidst a series of petty stalls, I notice a small makeshift workshop with a couple of old tyres hung on the branches of a tree like the beacon for a lost ship. Relieved, I hasten to find a place to park my two-wheeler.<br /><br />A burly young lad, Salman, of roughly 4ft height, aged about 12 years, appears from nowhere and directs me to park the vehicle, signalling like a just landed aircraft to its designated slot. Without much ado, he gets on to the job, displaying a great deal of professional competence and seems deeply engrossed in pulling out the damaged tube from the stubborn tyre, relentlessly hammering the wheel frame.<br /><br />Just then a smart, well-dressed young man, with his laptop hung across his shoulder, stops by. He demands immediate attention to his two-wheeler dickey lock which had given way. Salman looks up, with his sharp focused eyes and sweat ridden tender face, acknowledges the presence of the new customer, but asks him to ‘wait’ without a word spoken.<br /><br />In a display of perfect professional acumen in order to retain the customer, he quickly gets up, glances at the dicky and delivers his ‘expert’ opinion. The young man is directed to bring a new lock of specific size, dimension and Salman returns to his work. The man with the laptop drives away towards the guided direction in absolute compliance.<br /><br />Meanwhile, my problem is fixed. All through, I stood in awe and admiration for this little lad who demonstrated all the command in what he was doing. He would have had hardly any schooling and his uncle had put him in this workshop for assistance. I lost almost one precious hour, but returned richly benefited by the silent lesson the boy taught me.<br />Employed for a leading insurance company as a development officer, the hostile economic environment coupled with a strong wind of recession taking its toll on the sales, this experience gave my sagging self-confidence a boost.<br /><br />I learnt three lessons: First, if one grows up to be emotionally unstable, it is his parents’ mistake. If one is not intelligent as others, it’s the God’s mistake. However, if one doesn’t put in more effort than others, it will be his mistake.<br /><br />Second, I realised it does not matter what I have, but what really matters is what I do with what I have.<br /><br />Third, what happens to me is not under my control, but what happens through me is absolutely under my control.<br /><br />Though late, I drove straight to my office without a sense of remorse, the voice of love redesigning the blueprint of my life for a purposeful living.</p>
