The "little" things in life

One fine day, our gang of five decided to embark on an ambitious project. The grandeur of the project was such that it required planning more intensive than that required by the allies to push past the Berlin wall. Choosing an appropriate location for plan execution was a major task in itself. Geographical implications such as the presence of camouflage, distance from thoroughfare and safety from the elements of nature were to be taken into account. More importantly, a plenitude of necessary resources was key to the success of our venture. After an exhaustive search, an acceptable location was found that fulfilled most, if not all of our requirements. Next came the numerous other constraints that had to be satisfied if we were to meet with even partial success. Discretion had to be ensured if our activities were to be unhindered. Arcane equipment not normally available had to be procured, making certain that the methods of procurement did not draw attention from the general public. Alternative plans had to be devised in case of any unforeseen eventuality. Finally, proper attire was critical to the success of our mission. This was no coat and tie affair but still, the importance of the occasion demanded something special. Keeping in mind all these and several other factors, we devised a strategy. We double checked and triple checked our strategy and after carefully examining our plan of action for any loopholes we picked the D-day.

The big day dawned, and exuding a confidence that would put Tendulkar to shame, we met clandestinely at the predetermined spot to put into action the meticulous plans that had been made over the last two weeks. We were attired in the prescribed clothing and accoutered with the exact instruments and tools outlined by the master plan. The atmosphere was electric. There was no room for complacency. After a meaningful silence and a prayer of sorts we launched our project and proceeded to execute our much hyped plan with the kind of surgical precision that Steffi Graf used to decimate her rivals. Our concentration to the job at hand was total. The focus was on perfection rather than completion. The sweltering heat had no effect whatsoever on our determined young bodies. Brief setbacks did occur, but then our plan was designed to cover every deviation from the norm, which it did.

At long last, after six straight hours of work we completed what we set out to build and stood back to admire our handiwork. A beautiful mud castle stood as a testimonial to our hard work and diligence. It was indeed a piece of art. Symmetrical beyond description, perfectly shaped and majestic in its form the castle stood 2 feet tall and 4 feet wide. I was seven years old then and I’m talking about a castle that was built in our colony in Bangalore after we had read about a sand castle in a comic.

Why all this “build-up” for a mud castle you might ask. Mind you, I might not have known those big words all those years ago but I sure felt the excitement and thrill that those words portray. Building that castle was as important to me as architecting a real house. It may have been a small thing but I was at my happiest when I was doing it, unmindful of the rest of the world and the things happening around me. I miss those little things in life, the things that cost nothing but still bring you unparalleled happiness. If I talk about climbing trees and fences, building paper planes and boats, playing robber and police, reading Enid Blyton, you might want to gently point out to me that I am an adult now and that regrettable though it may be, the days for those childhood activities are long gone. However it is not those activities that I want to draw your attention to.

I am talking of those activities which most of us go through everyday in what we call our “mundane” lives. Let me illustrate with an example. One night I call my friend and ask him how his day was.. He says “Boring da.. I went to work and came back… that’s it.” Huh? Is that really all he did in a 16 hour day? No, he just blanked out what he thought was insignificant. He forgot all about the smile and inquiries of his neighbor when he left for work in the morning. He forgot the call he received after two weeks from his close friend. He forgot about the girl in the coffee shop who told him she liked the wordings on his t-shirt. He forgot the guy who held the door open for him in his office. He forgot the joke his boss shared with him. He forgot that he had had a great lunch. He forgot about the songs he had listened to while working. He forgot feeling the wind in his face when he was taking the train back home. He forgot about the amazing sunset he had seen from that same train. He forgot that he had helped his mom with groceries. He forgot about the book he had relaxed with in the evening. Are these insignificant? Yes, they are. They could happen to everyone everywhere everyday. The key is in attaching significance to them anyway.

If the only things that are going to make you happy are going to a nightclub in a Porsche with a hot girl on your arm, visiting the Empire State building and the Statue of Liberty in New York City, standing on the Golden Gate in California, having ten friends around you to pep you up, getting into the Indian ODI team, cracking CAT, getting straight As in all your courses… well then you’re obviously not going to be happy for most part. If on the other hand you would enjoy an evening out with your parents, a heart-to-heart chat with your mom, an argument with your sibling, a game of scrabble or monopoly, a good book, a walk in the evening with an acquaintance, eating together in the dining hall, dressing up just for fun, sharing a joke, playing a prank, listening to your favorite song a hundred times over… just as much, then you’ve got it made.

It is not easy, however. In my opinion, the best way to appreciate the “little” things, would be to consciously try to remember them and then to generate the enthusiasm to plan for them and make them happen again. My analogy of the castle is intended to pass on the effect of making something totally insignificant into something momentous. The more enthusiasm we generate for even the simplest things, the more they are going to mean to us. Try as I might, I am still unable to generate that castle building enthusiasm for the supposedly mundane events that occur in my life.

I have a theory as to why every passing day makes it harder to appreciate the “little” things in life. But then THAT is another post... :p

Happy Friendship Day!!! :-)