Challenges, Adversity and Struggles - Elephants , Ants and Kunjel Mooppan

 Child Smoker 

The car was a beast from the outside but a cocoon from the inside. The unending leg space and silent air conditioning inside made it ideal for friends to travel and talk. The endless roads, devoid of traffic, encouraged the car to race with the winds. Whenever Jose, my friend, forgot to rein in the beast, Cini, his wife, lovingly reminded him of the brake pedal. Jose and I are childhood friends.  

“Do you know how we first met?” Jose asked my wife as we headed for Khor Fakkan from Al Dahaid. I tried hard to recollect but failed. “Something interesting about it?” she asked. Jose had already narrated many incidents of our childhood since we arrived in Sharjah two days ago. We had been laughing at ourselves and reconnecting. There were times when we laughed till our stomachs hurt.

“Like all houses in the locality, our houses were farmhouses and shared a common boundary, a high mud bund we call Kayyaala. It was one of the few kayyaalas in the locality without dispute. One day, I was sitting in my house and found smoke intermittently emanating from his side of the Kayyaala. Curious, I went to investigate. I found him sitting under a tree, smoking a cigarette. We must have been in our 7th or 8th grade. He had come home from the hostel for summer vacation. We have known each other ever since.  We became close during our college days. Search for a dignified livelihood took us on different roads away from each other. He joined the Military Academy after graduation to become an Army officer. We wrote letters to each other. Gradually, we got caught up in our own lives, and letter writing stopped. Whenever we happened to meet, we met as if we had never left each other's side,” Jose said.

Jose completed his Bachelor of Pharmacy course and opened a pharmacy in our area. He met Cini, a beautiful girl with bright eyes, and married her. Like many other Keralites, he landed in Sharjah, where he found a job in a pharmacy and Cini in a logistics company. Jose then moved into the shipping and logistics business. He worked hard for almost four decades and did well.   

What Next?

During their last trip to Kerala, Jose and Cini visited us and stayed overnight. The visit cemented the friendship between the two families. “Have you been to Dubai?” asked Jose. “No,” I replied.  “You land there and leave the rest to us. We have enough time,” Jose said.  “It will be nice to have you with us,” said Cini. We decided to fly to Sharjah. It was the third day of our visit, and Jose was driving us to Khor Fakkan. The four of us, with so much time together, bonded well. Like most couples inflicted with empty nest syndrome, our discussions somehow meandered into the question, “What next?” 

I am retired and spend time mostly reading and writing. I published my second book recently. I am also a director of a company. I am happy, gainfully occupied, and content with life. I come across many others who have settled down to retired life. Older or younger, many of them were in distress due to loneliness and lack of purpose. Uncertainty about ‘what next’ persistently tormented many of them. Contented, happy, and gainfully occupied, yet occasionally, the question, “What next?” gnaws me too. 

Jose is continuing with his business but plans to scale it down. Jose and Cini also grapple with the “what next” question. He has seen enough and surmounted adversities that can decimate lesser mortals. He is not one to be cowed down by challenges, but “What next” somehow cropped up in many of our discussions. Pensive silence inevitably followed. Jose invariably brought laughter back by saying, “Come what may, Kunjel Moopan[1] is happy.” 

Struggles 

In the highly connected contemporary world, social media is king and influencer. Many have found success and have become rich and famous through this platform. Some of them paint larger-than-life pictures of themselves. One easy way to do it is to share the real or make-believe struggles one overcame. Think about it. We all do it too.

Parents tell children, “We struggled a lot to reach here. How easy it is for you.” My parents told me of their “struggles.” I found most of them unbelievable. I told my children about my “struggles.” I am sure they would think I made it up. I can never bring myself to agree, however hard I may try, that my children had to struggle for anything. ‘Struggle’ is an element that can romanticise success, however small, and make it look spectacular. Struggle makes success an achievement. 

 

I vividly recall my grandmother's words; “aanekku thadi bharam; urumbinu ari bharam” a Malayalam phrase (ആനയ്ക്ക് തടി ഭാരം ഉറുമ്പിന് അരി ഭാരം). On the face of it, it meant “for the elephant, timber (log) a burden and for the ant a grain of rice (the burden).” Those content with its superficial meaning will miss the pearl within. The real meaning of this phrase was revealed to me when I grew up and started encountering challenges in life.

Elephant or Ant - The Choice

Adversities are opportunities to employ our potential. Challenges test our ability to apply our potential. There can be no progress in life unless adversities challenge our potential. When challenges become existential issues that call for persistent efforts, they become struggles. Adversity, challenges, and struggles exist everywhere. It is we who decide to make a challenge turn into an adversity and then create a situation of struggle. If we learn to address challenges individually, we prevent them from turning into adversities. When we adequately and timely handle adversities we do not create struggles to contend with.

Adversities do still turn into situations of struggle. Situations that demand struggle also call for reassessment. Some of the questions that we must ask ourselves about such situations are given below: -

What is the ‘struggle’ all about?

Is it the result of not shedding “baggage’ that we were to jettison?

Is it an amalgamation of several problems that we did not handle appropriately?

Is it a result of ‘too little - too late’ or seeking ‘too much - too soon’ or that got us here?

Can we isolate the ‘struggle’ into individual problems and handle them? 

Do we have the required competencies and how can we deploy them?

What are the external forces and what are internal obstacles? Can we separate them?

Are we seeing ghosts where none exists?

Are we making a log out of a grain (mountain out of a mole)?

Honest dissection of the situation through a set of questions, like the ones tailor-made for individuals, above can help us redefine the situation, reimagine solutions, and maybe tackle them as individual problems rather than seeing them as one gigantic existential struggle. If we still feel that we are in the struggle zone, then it is time to call for external help. There is a sense of inadequacy and helplessness attached to struggles. There should be no hesitation to seek help like the ants. The essence lies in identifying when we need to be elephant-like or need to be ant-like.

Despite all that we may do, results may or may not be to our liking. It is in handling results, especially unpalatable and suboptimal ones, that we need to learn from Kunjel Mooppan.

Kunjel Mooppan

Kunjel was one of the farm labourers in our area. His old face revealed the rugged and weather-beaten life he led.  Whether the crop yielded well or failed, India won or lost in a match, it did not affect him. He had seen so much of life nothing could shake that man; Not even personal losses like the death of his wife and son.  It was not that he had no feelings or emotions. He cried when he lost his wife. He cried when he lost his children. There were times he went to sleep empty stomach. There is so much to learn from him about accepting the inevitable. When the crop was good, he advised the farm owner to save a little for the rainy day and when the crop failed, he said the next one would certainly be a bumper crop.  When the day was bad, he said tomorrow would be good. Many of us could underplay his zen-like existence by attributing it to the minimal access he had to creature comforts. He smiled because nothing affected him permanently. Nobody makes poverty a wilful choice. Zen-like approach is a difficult choice very few can make.

Transformation

Dunes gave way to townships, and townships gave way to dunes. Along the way, many manmade greens stood out from the natural dunes. We then stopped at Masafi for a cup of tea and found the green coolant dripping from the engine. Jose opened the bonnet took a quick look inside and asked the stall owner, a Malayalee, where he could find a mechanic. As we drove towards the mechanic, he noticed that the temperature gauge did not show a climb. The mechanic was of no help. “We push on,” declared Jose. We drove into the series of tunnels and then into the magnificent sights of all, The Khor Fakkan beach.

We walked around the beach and admired the beauty around us.  “Houston, we have a problem,” I said sitting in the vehicle as Jose started the car. “We are heading back to Sharjah. Coolant level ok. Temperature ok. Here we come,” said Jose and turned the car onto the highway. “Switch off the air conditioning,” I said in a bid to lessen the engine load. Once we crossed the mountain range and the tunnels, we switched on the air conditioning. It was a big relief. We kept a close watch on the engine temperature lest we irreparably spoil it. Four hours later we were home.

“Kunjel is happy,” said Jose.

PS: The next day we took the car to the mechanic. We had to change the coolant pump. It had broken!

 

 

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[1] The name changed to conceal the identity of the person concerned.