Haste Makes waste

“Patience is power.Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is "timing" it waits on the right time to act, for the right principles and in the right way.” ― Fulton J. Sheen

People have a weird way of reacting in situations. Some ignore and walk away displaying inhumane feelings while the others enjoy helping out and spend their whole time in that situation, living it every moment.  If a person falls down or collides with a bus or any other vehicle within minutes you will find a crowd of people in India. They leave their vehicles aside. Pick the person, dust him, calm his agitated nerves, pick his vehicle and leave it aside. They may enquire the person’s wellbeing then and wait till the hurt person goes back. If there is a problem like a fire or shortage of water or a quarrel, we find these people running about and not resting till the situation is under control. These are looked upon as volunteers and are highly respected in India. Perhaps it is their interest or may be the desire to keep busy when they have nothing to do,  which motivates them.

The floods in Jammu Kashmir were taking toll of people reminding me of  the gravity through a day’s experience during one of the monsoons in Pune. The rivers were overflowing. It was a bountiful year with plentiful rains. The dams had released thousands of cusecs of water and the city was submerged to a small extent. The newspapers carried the pictures of the submerged Mourya Goswami temple at Chinchwad with only its shrine visible. We still were living uphills and were lucky. That afternoon there was water left in Indrayani river near Dehu Road and so great was the water level that the water rushed downstream to Nigdi and filled all the low lying areas on the Mumbai Pune Highway.

My son was a little boy who was eight years old then. He was studying at one of the Kendriya Vidyalaya which did not have a bus facility for the students. He used to travel by a van with other students. That fateful afternoon he did not return by the usual 2.30 pm making me visualise a misfortune. The weather had changed. It was sunny, but the roads still had water which did not seem to recede. My husband was posted at a remote place in Konkan making me all the more responsible for my little boy. I drove my scooter precariously through one small stream and reached the crossroads where water was flowing seemingly fast. I saw a group of people guiding others as they crossed on their bikes. Some were wading in the water to reach their destination. My goal was just twenty meters away which could lead me to the school from there. As I began driving, the group waved their hands while standing in water asking me to go back. I felt pity surging within me for me and my son as two lonely beings, and decided to move ahead. As I drove in the water I grew dizzy and felt strange as if a whirlpool was gripping me and then I fell, and slid with water. 

My scooter was nowhere, I was picked by people who yelled saying that they had cautioned me. I felt embarrassed but quickly said ‘my son’. Some more people at the other end caught my scooter and brought it out. But one group started rushing downwards as if they were searching something. A few dangerously bent in water to pick things. Someone then asked me where was my son. I said I was searching for him. Now they rushed a little downwards and said that they needed to prevent the baby  from going down the open drain. One of them asked me how old was my son making me realise that they were actually searching for my son. I told them in Hindi that I had come in search of him and that he was eight years old. I quietly pulled my scooter and came out of water helped by a few people. But for these volunteers, I would have landed down the open drains. I was hurt as I had landed on the rocky surface of the road underneath the water. On coming out, I found my arms and feet smarting and bleeding. I felt I would go back home and decide what should be done. Sadly I drove back pitying my situation. On reaching home I found my son playing in the garden, he came rushing to hug me. I prayed God a prayer of thankfulness for bestowing my little one safely back to me. I thanked those volunteers who were  socially responsible from the depth of my heart for having saved me before things got worst. It taught me a lesson of patience and wait before rushing to conclusions however emotionally bound we are. Patience gives the power of endurance in dire circumstances and presents a serenity to do things right while impatience evokes annoyance. Many a times a person takes hasty and impulsive actions to repent in solitude.

“It is very strange that the years teach us patience - that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting” ― Elizabeth Taylor,