In this tolerant city how can one be insensitive to little ruffians who play some pranks
Youre getting paranoid, Altaf declared in his inimitable manner,leaning back in his chair,folding his arms across his chest and pasting a supercilious smile on his deadpan face.He thrives on playing the role of The Wise One and prides himself in being always a seeker and a learner.He arrived in this city nine years ago with a backpack,a small suitcase of clothes,four cartons of books,no job and a big smile.In two years,he had settled into a job,got himself a wife,a decent little apartment in Aundh and a group of friends with whom he started the Wisdom Club.They meet for two hours on the first Friday of every month and talk about all the gyaan theyve picked up from living in this city.I remember attending one of their sessions and marvelled at how they psyched themselves into seeing goodness around every corner.Some of them came up with the usual chicken-soup type of pick-me-up anecdotes whilst others were more reflective.Anyway,to get back to the point,there we were sitting in one of those aquarium-type coffee shops that the city is now blessed with and I had been holding forth on how my missus and I had been insulted by a group of brats from the neighbourhood.They had absolutely no right to be rude, I said a g i t a t e d,considering all I did was stop t h e m from uprooting the telephone connection box outside our gate.The fault was theirs.Not ours.And I was merely intervening.
But the tone you used wasnt the right one for sure.Thats why you got that sort of reaction.
What sort of tone should I have used There they were,a gang of ruffians from the local bustee,with wooden rods,crowding around the small,blue metal box which until then had been minding its own business on the side of the road.When I asked them what they were doing they ignored me and continued to pummel the unfortunate thing and attempt to yank open its locked door.So I bellowed a couple of invectives which halted them in their tracks for a few moments.When they discovered where the reprimand was coming from,they turned their attention to us and began to do a sort of war dance hopping about and whooping and waving their arms and brandishing their weapons.The frenzy was unbearable.What right had those little mobsters to insult us that way I asked,out of breath with agitation.
I dont think you should be considering what they were doing, he said,but reflecting on your responses.
What do you mean I wanted to know.They were behaving like little ruffians.
And you were behaving like a typical stiff-necked bossy prude without any patience and devoid of sensitivity.
My dear friend, I reacted,If you were in my position you would have thrown stones at them.
He ignored my comment and continued to pursue his own line of argument.They were just boys from deprived families who were bored with nothing to do and nowhere to play.They live in a bustee which offers them no inspiration whatsoever.So all they were doing was physically venting their boredom and frustration.And you and your Mrs came along and were offended by their behaviour and tried to remind them that they are living in a civilised city and are breaking the rules.And how did you do that By treating them like stray dogs,shooing them away.Did you try to talk to them
Talk to them You must be joking. I finished my cup of coffee and reached into my pocket for my wallet.I had had enough of his gyaan.
We live in a large-hearted city, he said quietly,a place that constantly forces us to reflect and learn.It expects us to be tolerant,to be inclusive.Kids in your colony have enough space to play in,but the others the ones youve been talking about dont have that sort of luxury.They didnt choose to be born into that situation.But they are now here and are struggling to make sense of it.And you and your Mrs turn up...
I left him babbling,paid the bill and walked out because I couldnt answer him
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