THAT EXTRA BIT...

Since last few days I had been laboring my grey cells time and again over one problem. It so happened that my boss (he is the best boss in the world) pointed out to me that that the difference between success and mediocre is the difference between a job and a career. He has this habit of saying things straight to the point. Well, he just did that. I walked out of his cabin that day a bit confused and unable to understand what exactly the hidden message was?

The days passed and I quite forgot about the conversation we had. There were of course more important things to do in my list. Like reminding the channel’s viewers that Counting day was close and my channel would be providing the best coverage, wondering about the next safest way to lose weight, learning a new international recipe, bitching about some people non stop and the list can go on. Random activities without any sheer goal, except the first one. Work is important and yes I was slogging hard. Then why had that line come to me from this man who was my icon today? I wondered, I pondered, and finally I forgot.

Today- the 8.40 am Churchgate local. My vehicle to work, my very active gym (thanks to the squeeze, in spite of the fact that I am a first class traveler), my one stop where I get to hear and learn all the Philmi ghaati gaalis and of course the hub of stories, real stories.
As the train passed Mahim junction, I began to get bored. Bored and tired of the scorching heat, the same old songs, the same faces, the same book cover (well, I haven’t read the book yet), even the same snap on my cell, although its just two days old. Suddenly out of the blue as I was looking for something interesting I saw a strange sight. There was a mother with her 8 year old daughter. Blind daughter. Then the following events occurred, one after the other.

The mother neatly unfolded a paper bag. Inside lay what we call Kanda bhajiyaas (Onion dumplings for the firangs). As her little daughter sat there, speechless, unaffected the mother slowly brought the bhajiyaas close to her mouth. The daughter tasted and gave a big smile. This was an approval and want for more. Her mother fed her the entire piece. Then what followed had the awe element. The mother cut the bhajiyaa into two and very carefully brought out the ingredients one by one to explain what flavor, smell, taste each provided by putting each next to her daughter’s nose and then in her mouth, one by one. Now the little blind girl finally knew what each ingredient was and identified them by their smell, even if she couldn’t see them. It would certainly help her someday, her mother knew. So she tried a bit extra hard to train her better for that day.

The train suddenly halted at Lower Parel and I realized that I had to get up to leave. I picked my bag, wore my scarf (to avoid the heat) and moved towards the door. As I was leaving I gave the mother daughter duo one final look. Both looked happy, one because she was trying one step up to teach, the other because she was trying one step up to learn.

I came to office and switched on my computer and thought about the entire episode once again. And finally I realize, it’s not about how much we do, but about how we run that extra length, make that extra effort. Maybe that’s what my boss meant that day when he spoke about the difference between success and mediocre.

Who else could teach me such a wonderful, important lesson of life better…than a mother?