Life’s Travelator
Once again I was at the swanky airport, yet again on
another official outing. The alarmist that I am, as usual I was at the airport
well before two hours. With no luggage other than an over-nighter, check in was
a very brief affair. I picked up a coffee and walked to the waiting area near
the departure gate. This is one place I love. Stepping back from life waiting
and watching people or reading, I am normally detached from my surroundings and
take flights on the wings of my thoughts. I also watch people posturing and
sending non verbal messages to those around. It is a world of make believe,
both of making oneself believe what one wants to believe in and making others
believe what one wants others to believe. It is a kaleidoscopic display of egos
I get to witness. Normally I come out having learnt something or the other.
This time was different. Few days ago, I had managed to spend
some time with a friend of mine. She was in her late seventies and gracefully
waiting to cross over on her final journey that was imminent. Anne and I had
been friends with her for over eight years. The difference in age or time
didn’t deter us from being very close friends. Her daughters who were very
caring and attached to her had kindly allowed us the space within their close
circle and we had become like one extended family. This time sitting at the lounge
she was in my thoughts. I was thinking of how we had become friends and how our
friendship evolved. I was looking at life and people in the perspective of a
time traveler. I too am a time traveler, engrossed in a journey that is
actually lonely but made full by people and stuff that I chose to surround myself
with. These choices are personal and the outcome of my life actually revolved
around the choices I had made all these years. I was actually looking at life,
my journey so far and was wondering what lies ahead. I was on a different plane altogether.
It is then that the child on the ‘moving walkway’
(travelator) grabbed my attention. He could have been at best six or seven. I
could not see his parents anywhere near him, but he seemed to be happy exploring
the area around. I perceived that the child was confident and independent. The
parents, having allowed him on an independent mission, I am convinced, were
also confident about their son’s capability to handle life on the fast track. The
boy was running on the ‘conveyor belt’ that took him from one place to another.
While some passengers just stood on the belt and were happy to be carried by
the belt at its pace, some walked on it but this child was running on it. Thus those
who stood on the belt reached the other end faster than those who chose to skip
the belt and preferred to walk outside. Those who walked on the belt reached
faster than those who chose to stand on the belt. The boy beat them all as he
ran the whole length. It looked as if he was floating ahead of his times.
As soon as he reached the other end, he got on the
return conveyor, ran to the initial place and the cycle continued. Each time he
was on the belt he left people behind. He was clearly enjoying it. Then I
spotted the proud parents, standing to a side enjoying their son’s achievement.
They clearly had given birth to a winner, on their hands, who would fulfil not
only his own dreams but even theirs which they could not.
There was still long for the flight to be announced. The
wait was long and we all had time. The child kept improving his skills on the
belt and each time he ran faster. It is then he spotted the elevator. He ran
for it and as soon as the doors opened automatically, he got in, punched some
buttons, down he went and soon he was back in the same elevator that set him
free to run the travelator to resume his pursuit of beating people to their
destinations. The game had become complex, he was enjoying it. He was a winner.
I could sense the pride of ownership on the child’s
father’s face. His son was leaving people, much elder and bigger than him, far
behind. He was enjoying it. All those who were watching must have had their own
emotions. Some nodded in appreciation while others expressed apprehension but most
of those sitting there were oblivious to what was happening and busy in their
own worlds.
Then the inevitable happened.
As the child came running from the elevator, he ran on
to the returning travelator. The initial momentum of his run carried him 5 10
steps on to the belt, but laws of physics can’t be denied its right and might. He
was thrown back head first and delivered flat out at the end. The passenger, on
the belt coming out, tripped over him and fell on him- all in a hopeless
helpless human heap. Some of those who were watching got up to see what
happened. Some said, ‘it had to happen’. Some had smiles on their faces and
could not hide their happiness over his fall. Some blamed the parents and few
blamed the child. Hardly anybody moved to pick up the child. I was the first to
reach, helped the man to his feet and then having been freed of the burden of heavy
human flesh on him, the child got up. He looked around and seeing many staring
at him, began to cry. He was not injured but visibly shaken. The father of the
child reached the scene, caught the child by his hand and slapped him hard across
the face and dragged him away. I could hear him cry along. Soon the cry became
sobs and then it ebbed into silence.
Few minutes later I heard a murmur from the crowd. Looking
up I spotted him back on the travelator – as if nothing had happened. He was
back at play and the travellers back to what they were doing.
I was disturbed. Why did the child choose the wrong
travelator? He had mastered the art of beating people in one direction. He
should have continued to do what he was doing. He chose to leave the travelator
for the escalator. He succeeded there too. Then why did he on his way back choose
the wrong direction? Was it an error in judgement? Was it a deliberate decision
to go against the forces to try something new? Why did his father who was happy
in his son’s capabilities and stood with pride, slap the child when he fell?
In a flash I saw the connections. I realised that a
profound truth of life was dramatically played out for me. In fact it was
played out for all of us. I don’t know who saw what. But I saw a great truth.
God gives us a path and with it, the resources to reach
where we want. The choice of using the resource depends on us. It is for us to
decide whether we want to go forward or not, up or down. If we decide to move
forward in life, we can choose the travelators and elevators or skip using it.
It is our choice. We cannot blame anyone for using a legally provided resource
to get ahead of us in the journey of life. Such choice has its risks too. It is
a decision that we have to take. We should know when the doors to an elevator
would open and close, where and to which levels it would take us to.
If we decide to choose the travelator we have a choice
to stand around, walk on it or run towards our goals. If the decision taken is
to stand around, many would walk past us. But it is our decision to stand
around, leaving us with no choice but accept the time frame in which destiny delivers
us to our goal. If we choose to run to the goal or take an elevator, we reach
faster than others. Our kith and kin would stand by admiring us with pride.
Others who take note of our achievement will have their own emotions, which
they may or may not voice. But most will be oblivious to us and our achievements.
Yet there will be many claiming ownership to our achievements.
But when, ego and error in judgement takes the better of
us and we choose the wrong direction to seek our goal then we are sure to fall
headlong sooner or later. As soon as we fall, we are likely to hear the scorns
and mocks that always accompany failure. Most will stand and watch. Rarely few
would rush to help. It is likely that, the ones who rush to help may have
nothing to do with us. The ones we think will rush to help may deliver crushing
blows. That is life. When the going is good, home is full and when going gets
tough, even shadows disown. It necessarily does not mean that we must always go
with the tide. It also does not mean that we never go against the tide. It just
meant that there is a right direction, there is right pace and with every
success there is an accompanying element of failure. The fall may not be hurt
as much as broken egos. Worse is the slap from someone, who took pride in our
achievements turning against us when we fail. But the good news is that there
is still another chance each time we fall, to pick up, mend our hurt egos and
run, but in the right direction.
