Rashmi's Space

Humility. We have all heard of it. We have all learnt about it. We have all heard our idols speak volumes about it (well, most of our idols). So, we all know humility is a virtue. And that it is important to practice it. Make it a part of our life. An inseparable part. And yet, we hardly ever practice it in real life. We rarely find ourselves in a position where we do something more than ‘graciously’ accepting a compliment received by us. Very rarely do we see ourselves giving compliments back to people who (may or may not) deserve them. When someone says something good about us, we are more than happy to take credit for whatever it is that we have done good. Without giving a single thought, to questions like – are we the only ones responsible for it? OR... are we the only ones who deserve credit for it? What we do instead, is feel extremely happy about it (nothing wrong in that); and believe that what has come to us has come to us because we deserve it. We are ‘worth it’ (...

The wind blows my hair in my eyes as I struggle to put the washing out to dry. The weather has been treacherous lately. Sudden rains and thunderstorms, followed by hours of calm, strong sunshine; only to be caught unawares by strong winds that howl in the narrow passages and tear at the hoardings on the highways. Oh, I almost forgot! Hello! Myself Mrs. Bhagirathi. The kids in my building call me Mrs. B. I am a housewife. Homemaker, they call me these days. Not that it makes any difference to what I do. But it is a better title it seems. Anyway, as I was saying, it is important to get all the washing done as early as possible, before the weather turns. And also because, once all the household chores are done, I can sit and concentrate on something that I actually enjoy doing! Like read, for example. Or maybe even get some creative work done. Some gardening. There are always bills to pay, of course. And when everything else fails to hold one’s interest, well, there is alwa...

They were five of them that day. The sun was shining brightly and the track was gleaming after the early morning rain. They had just sent their children in the school bus and were now taking their regular rounds, walking. After the initial discussion of who had packed what for their kids' lunch, they had now settled in a quiet rhythm, brisk walking around the building complex. Silent and together. Keeping pace with each other. A tight group of friends, five middle-aged women. He came from the other direction. He was young, lean, with an athletic build. He was wearing a branded sports vest and shorts, running shoes and wireless headphones. His cell phone was strapped to his bulging biceps. He was jogging, and the rhythmic thump of his feet could be heard long after he had passed them on.