I will be a good human “beeng”

I will respect my elders.
I will help others.
I will say the truth.
I will be a good human being.

A scene in a typical classroom in eighties -

Charts with drawings in crayons hang around its walls. A stocky lady teacher with thick plastic rimmed glasses perched on her nose stands facing a class of six year olds , who sit on little wooden chairs and write the above lines in their brown little notebooks.

There is a child on the first bench, she makes shorter children sit in the front so that she can see why they are not listening or may be hiding their mischiefs behind the taller ones. The child writes down the lines too with hesitant and unsure handwriting. Maybe a word or two is spelt wrongly. I think that child used to spell a being as beeng at that time. But he did write the lines. The lines read – I will be a good human beeng.

A simple sentence. A sentence that is made up of simple thoughts. Respect elders. Help others. Be kind. Say the truth.

Six year olds are innocent creatures of the earth. They believe everything the teacher tells. That child too believed what she told him. That he was to be a good human being when he grows up. That child wanted to be a good human being when he grew up.

A quarter century later, that child sits on the cozy chair if his office typing words you read now. He has grown up now. He studied his books though not very well. Mastered his skills and now works at a big company.

Over the years, he was faced with a lot of choices. And he made many choices and some were forced on him. The choices were always made in good spirit though many times turned out to be bad. I don't know if he evolved, but he changed.

Amongst the trigonometry lessons, the thick books of software engineering and the listening to the prolonged lectures sitting on the wooden plank of the classroom, and in the midst of the hustle and bustle of life he forgot that sentence he once wrote in that little, brown covered notebook that day. Or perhaps he did not forget. But he did not care much about it. The world did not care much about it, either. Nobody, including he himself, asked, “Are you a good human being, as you promised to be once?”

They applauded when he proved himself better than others. Faster than others. Sharper than others. But the world is such a cruel place. He went faster, others went ahead. That is what matters. Better than others. In the law of jungle it means to be faster than the slowest moving creature for survival. But he did not want mere survival. Being a good man did not matter much to the world, and he believed it did not matter to him also. Only winning mattered in the rat race. He was no longer that child.

I have not been good so far. I have hurt people, I have said things which have tore apart hearts of good souls, I have broken some hearts, I have been indifferent, I have been insensitive not caring about who I really am now, who that child was, and not caring if me and the child would ever meet again, talk again, be one again.

But today, the dusty clouds have parted a little and a long forgotten, once familiar sound of a child has managed to flow in like the first rays of a winter dawn. And the voice says “I wanted be a good human beeng . The child questions-Why have you become this? Don’t you remember me?”

And today, the grown up man wants to listen to that child, and believe in that child, and be that child. Because after ages he has found a friend who believes in being good more than being better. Who wants to help a million hands rather than control a million people. A friend, who looks at the world from the selfless eyes of that child I once was, without the layers of selfishness this life wraps around us adults. A friend, who gives me a strength and direction, not by loving me but by being who he is. A friend, who gives me the confidence that I can find myself, because I see a part of me in him. A friend, who more than being loved, is worthy of being respected.

The white cloud of simplicity I have found, gives me the strength to try to be that child again , to realize who I really am , and to be good again.

Mere Dil ke kisi kone main baitha masoom sa baccha
Badon ki dekh ke dunia bada hone se darta hi.

I know people will read this. Some people who think I am not a good man. Some people who think I am not practical enough. Some people who think I will change, and probably would forget these words soon enough. Some people who think I do not have the courage to be who I say I want to be. Some people who think I do not know what I really want to be. Some people who would not understand, and will think I do not understand.

All I can say is, I know what this means to me. And I do not expect many to understand what this means to me. Thanks to you, friend, I am talking to that child again. I had some good people with me always, but before you came along, I had given up on trying to be who I really wanted to be. Even though I do not have that brown little notebook today, that page has not been clearer to me before today. And I will be a good human “beeng” . Maybe not faster. Maybe not sharper . Maybe not a winner for the world. But definitely a good human being.