Thursday, 21 April 2011
Human Mind - A split personality???
Good Morning/Good Afternoon/Good Evening J
Today we were all set to leave. My daughter as usual was busy looking at the pet dog of our owner aunty and waving a bye to him. I opened the gate of our house when a lady who was sweeping the street came up and told you didn’t give me any money for the festival. I asked her which festival she was talking about. She said “Ugadi”. I told her 'Ugadi' was long gone and it’s too early for next year’s Ugadi. She said you celebrated while we have not yet. I knew she was giving me a reason for getting some money, while my eyes shifted towards a sales man who stood huffing and puffing in front of my neighbor’s gate. He was attempting to convince the neighbor house lady to buy his “papads”. He carried a big white bag with him. In it were papads, different varieties of them.
He came up to me, after a failed attempt at the neighbor's house; he started his new attempt, yet again. I don’t know this was his "how much’th" time? He said his papad was made of Sago rice, (Sabbakki in Kannada and Sabu dana in Hindi). He claimed they were homemade and when fried, they would be a wok full. I politely refused that we are getting late to office and I won’t be able to buy any papad from him. He tried yet again. May be he felt he could convince me. Perhaps, I looked like a soft target. By then M yelled back, now we have no time, please move on. With a long sullen face, the man walked on, on his mission, what seemed like a mission impossible for me.
I genuinely feel bad for these sales people. I feel their job is very difficult. They have to roam (regardless of the weather) from door to door, talking the same thing over and over again. They have to also hear to the nasty things people have to say. People seldom buy from any of these people. But they are eager to see what they have got, the price they have to offer and everything about the product they are carrying. To only reject it at the end. Finally people claim we can get it for cheaper at the store, why do we have to buy it from you? The sales person walks away packing away all his stuff, what he carefully removed and enthusiastically explained everything about. He would sure be yelling his lungs out within himself. Still courteously he says “thank you” as he walks out of one gate to enter yet another, where he would be going through the same thing most likely. I wonder what it takes to be in a job like this - lots of patience and the never dying hope that he would sell his product.
While all this was happening, that sweeper lady was quietly watching. After she saw that man walking away, she said these papads won’t be the way we make it. She claimed it won’t be good. And told when we make it ourselves at home, we would add freshly ground ‘Jeera’, ‘Pepper’ & dry chilies. We would dry it in the sun for days. That would be the original papad and nothing like it. She gave me the recipe within a minute. While I was feeling bad for the man walking in the hot sun, this lady was giving me the recipe of this papad. So, I retorted back at her. I just started telling her that he was selling it for making his ends meet and we should not comment on all this. Meanwhile she was also trying to tell me the same thing. She said, why should she comment, he was selling it for his livelihood. I was already on M’s bike and I continued to say that if we want lets buy it, if not let’s keep mum and not talk anything about it. When both the lady and I were done, M's bike had already started speeding. The thoughts about the sales man lingered on. Before I reached the end of the road, I was thinking what if this sales guy had stolen these products from some departmental store. I remembered the article I read on the newspaper. About a man who was nabbed for stealing packets of milk every day. Had this sales man done the same thing?? I was lost and unsure about the sales man.
Just then I realized the duality in human mind. The lady who was complaining about the sales man turned to take this side. Whereas me, who was supportive of him from the time I saw him had turned him into a thief.
That left me thinking, what is human mind made of?