Category: compassion (Page 2 of 3)

I am a Volunteer for Life

June 7, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

I’ve been riding my bicycle in India for ten days now. And it is the first time I rented a place to stay at night. On all other nights I would either sleep at a Gurudwara or a temple or at a friend’s place.
Today is my first paid stay so to say. I feel such a huge difference between the experiences of being hosted and paying to stay.
The place where I am staying looks like a chawl in Mumbai suburbs of the 90s. There is no fan, shower, Wifi, clean linen or even a doormat. There is a 50 watt bulb that infuses gloom in disptempered walls.
Frankly, it is quite a sad place.

But that is not what bothers me the most. I’ve stayed at places where I’ve had to sleep on the floor, in under construction houses and on one occasion I even spent the night on a bench at a bus stop.
I’ve spent most of my nights at a Gurudwara or a temple in India.
And I was totally okay with the utmost basic facilities I had at these places.

Why?

Because I was invited with open arms without any expectation of a transaction.
I had the freedom to move around and look for opportunities to help in the best manner I could.
I have volunteered in community kitchens, served food at the langars, swept floors, helped wash dishes for hours and on one occasion I even volunteered to clean up a disgusting community toilet out of my own desire to make things better.
I’ve slept in community halls on the floor after the long day filled with 6 hours of cycling and volunteering thereafter.
Yet, I have always slept like a baby and woken up with enthusiasm and purpose with the first light of the sun.

But today, in this enclosed space in the guest house, I feel sleepy, drained and devoid of energy.

I realised, maybe a transactional reality is not the context that brings out the best in me.
Here, at the guest house, I pay money and get a place to stay.
A transaction.
It doesn’t serve my spirit.

I would rather wish to engineer a context where I am free to contribute in whatever way I am capable of, at a place where I can engage with people and hopefully make friends and leave behind the place in a better condition.

It is not even about being a stingy traveller, who is always careful with money. I contributed monetatily at most places I was hosted for free, because I wish these places to exist and multiply, so that we have another context to experience. Because I want places that foster brotherhood to thrive.

While I know, the people running this guest house need money for sustenance and I’m happy to give them business, I realised this is not the best context for me to stay at.

In the interest of feeling more energised , enthused and eager to contribute I would choose to stay at a temple or a gurudwara or a kind host’s place.

This experience also made me understand why people choose to volunteer even on weekends despite a busy work week.
Volunteering is such an energising experience!
It will only fill you up with love and hope.

Maybe this weekend, instead of choosing to sleep over till late in the morning and going out for a brunch at a restaurant, I would like to suggest an alternative.

Go to a Gurudwara and volunteer at the community kitchen. They accept help form anyone who is willing to volunteer.
Instead of spending money at the restaurant, eat at the Langar in the Gurudwara for free.
I assure you, the experience will only leave you happy and energised.
And you will wish to donate a fraction of the money you would have spent at the restaurant to the Gurudwara donation box.

It is a much better investment of time and money.

Tomorrow, I am going to leave my bicycle behind and trek with a couple of friends to Kheerganga, Himachal Pradesh.
It is likely that I will pitch up a tent for the first time in India.
Since I would be hosted by mother nature in the valley, I am wondering how to be of help to her.
I have a huge garbage bag folded up in my backpack.
Maybe, I will just pickup all the trash that doesn’t belong in mother nature’s lap.

I can’t help being helpful.

I choose to be a volunteer for life.

I hope you have a fulfiling weekend my dear friend !

The art of listening

May 31, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

After a 52 day sojourn in Thailand, I reached India a couple of weeks ago. I had the fortune of staying with my friend’s family in Kolkata. I was fed home cooked food with utmost love by his mother for a whole week.
Both her sons are working in different cities and her husband is a working man who isn’t home for the most part of the day.
I would love to spend time with her in the afternoons, which she would usually spend alone, all by herself. She enjoyed my company too, and shared so many of her stories with me. It felt as if she didn’t have anyone to speak to for a long time.

On the first day she seemed to be a shy and introverted woman. But as she got to spend time with someone who would listen to her patiently, she opened up and spoke freely with joy.

During my stay in Kolkata, I also met with a school friend who’s been preparing for an entrance exam for a year at home.
We met up and he spoke on and on for hours on end. I felt happy to be there and give him company, for it felt as if he had not spoken to someone openly for a long time.

While in Delhi, I met a brave friend of mine who’s mother has been bed ridden for four years now. We used to play a lot of music together and share great brotherhood.
He also, had so much to talk about when we met. He spoke of his struggle, the hardship, his mother’s fighting spirit and his newfound belief in Buddhism. Despite his extroverted nature, I knew he had few people who he could talk to about matters of the heart. His sharing felt like a catharsis.

On my last day in Delhi, I found great company in another close friend’s Mother. When she came to know about my ambition to bicycle up North in the mountains, she started sharing her suggestions with spirited encouragement. Over time, she opened up and talked about her dreams, aspirations and nostalgia. Within half an hour, it felt as if she had shared so much of her life in the conversation.

These experiences got me wondering about a person’s desire for expression.
Anyone who has heard their own voice in a recording would say they do not like it at all. It sounds weird and whiney. One might sing to himself when alone, but would not record himself and listen back. It doesn’t sound as good !

But that is merely the physical aspect of our voice. Our true voice is in our thoughts and actions. The act of speaking merely helps to communicate.

Most of us are convinced that we do not have a good voice.
But boy, do we not love to be listened to?

In that moment, one forgoes the idea whether they have a good physical voice or not. While speaking to someone, what matters most is the voice in the heart.

It is tragic to see that despite our hyper connectedness, many of us do not have a patient, judgement free space/ friend to speak to. The voice deep inside our heart never finds expression.
But the moment, one finds a conducive space, even the most introverted of people share their life and experiences animatedly.

I wonder, maybe the best gift one could give to someone, especially to the elderly, is to just lend them a patient ear and listen with intent. There is plenty of learning and avenues to grow in the exercise.

Listening is an act of compassion.

And sometimes, the easiest way to be accepted and loved is to just listen, with an open heart.

Choosing the right path

May 19, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

I was due to leave Thailand in a couple of days. Wondering how to get my bicycle packed in a case, I looked around for a bike shop that could help me.
Fortunately, I found a bike shop, ‘Bok Bok Bike’ run by a kind gentleman named Ma.

I went in to be greeted by his warm, welcoming smile. I felt as if I had arrived at the right place.
I asked him if he could help me get a cardboard casing for packing my bike for the flight back home.
He readily agreed and said I could come on the day I had my flight and pack it up the way I wished.
I felt relieved on hearing his offer.
I asked him for the best way to get the bicycle and my luggage to the airport. He got wondering. He seemed to be thinking of ways I could transport my bike. He suggested that I could book a big cab to the airport.
The following day I reached his shop at 2pm. The box was already waiting for me inside. He helped me pack up my bicycle in the best manner possible.

I asked him what I owed him for his help. He smiled, just the way he did the first time we met.

‘It is free for you. Enjoy your ride back home!’

And I knew I could never make an even offer with money.

‘Ma, can you help me book a cab?’ I asked.

‘Oh, one of my friends stays close to the airport. He will be visiting me in the evening.
You can go with him to the airport in his pickup truck. Just pay for the toll.
You’ll save time and money.’

At that moment I felt grateful and helpless at the same time. Grateful for him abundant kindness and helpless for I could think of no way to make up for his help on an immediate basis.

I rushed to my bag and took out my Polaroid camera.

‘Ma, I have a little project I wish to share with you. I click pictures for all the kind and helpful people I meet on my journey.

Can I click a picture for you?’

He readily agreed and I clicked a candid picture for him in his shop.
I hugged him goodbye with sincere hope of meeting him in India when he bicycles here on a tour.

Today, I reached Kolkata, India.
Here, I am staying with my childhood friend’s family.
I had issues with my SIM card not being active when I came back to India. My friend’s father sent me with his driver to the mobile store to get my sim reactivated. The driver, Ratanjeet, a chatty Bengali folk made good conversation all throughout our ride to the store.
He helped me communicate with the mobile store staff in Bengali.
We were told that the SIM will be activated only 48 hours later.
As we were leaving the shop Ratanjeet asked me,

‘Sir, it would be so much trouble to not have a phone for two days.
We can get a new SIM for you in my name. You can use it for two days and then give it to me when you leave.
I’ll use it later as needed.’

I was pleasantly surprised by his eagerness to find a solution.

‘Thank you so much Ratanjeet, but I think it will be okay for me to not have a number for a couple of days. ‘

In the evening, I sat back and wondered about these two incidents that happened with a span of 24 hours in two different countries.
Two complete strangers went out of their way to help me in the best manner possible. In fact, it wasn’t even about me. I am sure they would have gone out of their way to help someone they thought they could help.

Then I realised,
These kind humans,
are not going out of their way at all.

Helping people in need, is the only right way in their eyes.

We often hear elders tell us to choose the correct path in our life. After meeting these two gentlemen, I am convinced that the correct way,
The noble path,
Is one where there are avenues to help others.

Grateful for the profound lessons my friends Ma and Ratanjeet introduced me to,
I too am enthusiastic to join their tribe,
Of kind strangers,
On the noble path,
Of helping people with an open heart.

Buddha behind the wheels

May 13, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

Riding on the highways can be tricky at times. As a cyclist, I have to be extremely careful about the traffic etiquette. I need to be on the leftmost lane all the time and give way to vehicles speeding past me in the other lanes.
While it has been pleasant bicycling in Thailand, today I was made to realise how particular I have to be while changing lanes.
In the afternoon, a particular gentleman in a pick up truck drove by quite close to me within a hair’s distance while taking a free left turn.
Thankful of being left unscathed, I wondered how I could ride better.

I have been avoiding riding at night since I do not have enough lights to keep me visible from afar.
I thought maybe my bicycle should have indicator lights!
I kept pedalling on dreaming about this.

Until I saw another gentleman standing near his pickup truck near a temple on the highway. I guess he had just come out of the temple after offering alms to the monks.
It was a strange sight to spot a white-western gentleman in rural Thailand.

I slowed down a bit as I approached him.

He handed a packet to me which I presumed had food.

He quickly got in his truck and left. He honked twice to wish goodbye as he drove past.

In some time I stopped to rest. I was hungry and hoping to eat what he might have given me in the packet.
Do you know what I found in the packet?
To my surprise,
I found a set of bike lights !

It seemed like such a spooky coincidence. I met a man for ten seconds on the highway. Without even exchanging any pleasantries, he offered me something that I might be needing the most and left without a trace.

I affixed the light he gave me for the bike, still blown away by the turn of events.

This gentleman didn’t only give me lights for my bike,
He enlightened me in many ways.
He showed me the light towards being kind for the sake of kindness.
To help without even wishing to be remembered.
To represent the undeniable light that shines in us all.

He must be God.
Or at least his gesture,
Decidedly Divine.

Brim with the spirit of embracing kindness as a way of life,
I pedal on…

Priceless Bananas

May 10, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

The shadows were getting longer by the minute. As I passed by milestone after milestone, I found myself still quite far away from the nearest town. It had been a long day bicycling under the full sun.
I was hoping to buy a bunch of bananas for dinner. I only had 29 Baht with me to spare. With no ATM around me on the highway, that was my allowance for food for the night.

On the way, I saw a few shops adjacent to the road selling food. I slowed down to see if any of them had bananas.
Luckily, one of them did. I stopped to catch a breath before I spoke.

But as it happened, I didn’t need to speak at all. A lovely woman stood up and put a big bunch of bananas in a bag and gave it to me.
Since I didn’t have much money, I wanted to ask how much they cost. I took out my phone and gestured her to type in the price in the calculator app.

To my surprise, she spoke back to me in fluent English.
‘No No, you don’t need to pay for this. It is a gift from me to you.’

‘No, I must pay for this !’ I insisted.

She smiled and continued,
‘These bananas are from my farm. Very delicious. No problem for me. You can enjoy them.’
And she put another bunch in the bag for me.

‘What is you name ?’ I asked her.

‘My name is Onn. I live in this village.’

‘Onn, I am from India.’

‘I know. I can tell from your face.’

Her demeanor had a warmth and innocence as if she was trying to make the first friend of her life.
I wished to give her something for her kind gift of a couple dozen bananas.

‘Onn, can I click a picture of you?’

‘Yes, Okay!’

‘This is a special camera. It is called a Polaroid. We will have the picture come out from the camera instantly.’

‘Oh really! ‘ she exclaimed and posed.

I clicked the picture and waited for it to develop in the dark.

‘You like Thailand?’

‘Yes, a lot !’

‘Why?’ she inquired.

‘Because of people like you!’ I shared gladly.

She wore an excited look as I gave her the Polaroid picture.

‘This is wonderful. I like it. Thank you !’

‘You can make it your ID card !’ I joked.

‘Yes yes ! Next time you come in this area, come again, I always have bananas from my farm.’

I joined my hands and bowed down to greet her Namaste.

‘Yes I will, I promise.’

I got on my bicycle and headed onward.

She waved goodbye to me, just like kids on the street do, knowing well that they would never see you again, and not allowing that awareness to quell the exuberance in their greeting.

I’d heard from marketers that to create a relationship with a customer, give free stuff to them when they least expect it. By doing so, you’ll create loyalty around your brand.

But this beautiful village woman, far removed from the context of business, shared what she had, without seeking any business in return.
She was just happy being an embassador of goodwill.

Had I paid for the bananas the usual way, she would have had money and I’d have had the Fruit.
But she chose to be generous,
And both of us have a beautiful memory,
To reminisce,
To share,
And most importantly the desire to carry the spirit of empathy, compassion and goodwill within us, on the journey of life.

Later in the night, I tasted one of the bananas. They were certainly the best ones I’ve ever tasted.
She was right to not put a price tag on it.
For certainly they are,
Priceless.

I Love You

April 29, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

I had been staying at my Hostel in Chiang Mai for four days. The hostel was quite a dynamic place with people checking in and out all the time, changing personality with departures and arrivals.

But in my four day stay, there was one constant in terms of occupancy.
A frail old English gentleman with a disfigured face lay in that quiet corner in the common area, much the same way as I saw him the first time, four days ago.
He didn’t even seem to move. Occasionally he would turn a little with great discomfort to get to an agreeable bodily position.
I felt a bit afraid to approach him. I felt he wanted to be left alone.
As I was leaving the hostel, I mustered the courage to approach him.
I had a few Rose Apples fresh out of the fridge, just at the temperature they taste best at. I patted him on his back and offered it to him.
He opened his uninjured right eye and accepted it.
I left for the next destination soon after.

A week later, I happened to pass through the city again and chose to stay at the same hostel. Much to my surprise, most of it was deserted with people leaving to cooler places in Thailand as compared to a hot and humid Chand Mai.
I entered the common area to find the elderly Englishman still lying at the same spot. This time I felt more responsible to act since there was barely anyone around.

With a ripe mango in my hand I approached him gingerly.

‘How are you?’ I asked.
‘Ah, it’s you!. I am much better than last week. I can finally walk on my own.
You know what happened to me? I fell off a bus after getting nudged by a heavy backpack. Once I got up, I had my money and phone stolen and I did not recall much at all. I forgot my bank passwords, my email…It was like a complete reboot.
Gradually I remembered things and I wrote to my bank to send me a new card. I have just been waiting for it all this while.
I was a reporter for BBC you know, I’ve covered news from war-zones, but never in my life have I felt so lonely and helpless, on a holiday for God’s sake, when I am supposed to be having fun.’

‘That day when you gave me that fruit’ he continued,’ I felt I could eat a hundred of those. I hadn’t eaten in a while and my body didn’t feel ready to accept anything. But since that day, I’ve been eating and recuperating.’

‘How about a mango today?’ I asked him.

‘Oh, I love mangoes. That would be a dilight !’

I left him to savour the mango and retired for the night.
The next day as I was leaving, I stopped to check if I had any food left in the common fridge. I had mangoes and a few packets instant noodles.

I took the food with me to the English man.
‘Care for another mango?’ I asked.
He slowly opened his eyes.
I placed the cold mango in his palms.

‘Oh thank you so much!’

‘Okay, Michael, I am leaving now. I wish you a speedy recovery.’

The staff at the hostel interrupted to inform Michael,

‘He also left noodles for you. You can have for dinner tonight!.

Joining both hands together in gratitude,
He just said,

‘Thank you so much. I love you.’

We waved goodbye and I left the hostel happily.

While bicycling, many questions arose in my mind.
‘It must have been a long time since he made a new friend.’
With age, we lose the openness of making new friends. Kids have a new friend an hour. But adults barely make new friends after an age.
But finding a friend, especially when you need them, in situations you least expect, is such a cathartic joy.
You feel like a child again.

And once the gentleman felt like a child again, it was second nature for him to say ‘I love you.’
That’s something people don’t even say to their spouse after a decade into the marriage. We guard our hearts with utmost caution in the real world. But the moment the heart turns into a child’s , a guarded, 70 year old man, sings these words like the song of a canary.

I also got thinking about
‘How hesitant we are to ask for help. Even sadder is how reluctant we are to help people who could use some.’

It is easy to not help when there are many people witnessing the same problem. We think that ‘someone’ will help. A classic case of diffusion of responsibility.
But once we get past that and be proactive in helping someone in need,
Not only do we gain goodwill, but also the prospect of making a new friend.

As they say, ‘A friend in need is a friend indeed.’ Especially a new friend, who chooses to stop being a bystander, a passive sympathiser.

It helps to keep an open heart.
When you need help, ask for it,
When you are in a position to,
help in the best way you can.
That’s how we create the possibility
Of new friendships,
Of blossoming hearts,
Of having faith in humankind.

I LOVE YOU.

The Best Position

April 26, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

A little boy and his father were walking down the road home. The boy’s shoulders were weighed down by disappointment.
His shoes were covered in a layer of dust after the sports day proceedings in school. He dragged his feet along wearing a dejected look on his face. The proud father put his hand around his son and patted in a consolatory manner.

‘What’s the matter Son?’

‘Nothing dad. I am just a bit disappointed.’

‘About what my boy?’

‘ Well, because I couldn’t get the best position in the 100 meter race.’

The father smiled. And asked,

‘What happened in the race?’

‘As soon as I heard the gunshot, I started running. I was behind three other runners. But one of them tripped and fell down. So I stopped to help him get up. I started running again as soon as I could.
But by then I was trailing behind four other kids. I could barely overtake one of the runners. And I missed out on being on the podium position.’

Consolingly his father ruffled his hair and asked,
‘Son, What’s the best position to be in?’

‘ The first position dad? The Gold medal position !’

The father looked into his son’s eyes and explained,
‘For me, the best position
Is to be in a position to help.
You chose to help a friend stand up and run again.
At that moment, you might have lost a few seconds, lost the race,
But you won the hearts of everyone witnessing the incident.’

The boy looked at his father and smiled without abandon.

‘I’m proud of you son. You’ve taught so many people a wonderful lesson by your compassionate action’

With an uplifted spirit he replied,
‘I will always strive to help when I can dad.’

‘But not in an examination okay !’ joked his father.

Both Father and son walked smilingly towards the ice cream shop to celebrate.
They bought three ice creams.
Two to eat, one to share.

Indeed,
What a position to be in.
To be able to be of help!

Uphill

April 12, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

After spending a comfortable night at a Buddhist temple-school, I prepared myself to leave early in the morning. My little monk friends were just arriving from their alms gathering run around the village. They all had one thing to share with me from their alms-pot. Someone offered Soy milk, another a pack of noodles, a Thai snack…
I looked at them all and asked,
‘Can we eat together?’
‘Chai Chai'(Yes-Yes) they said and we enjoyed a nice breakfast together.
I told them I am going to Chiang Mai next, 150 kilometers further uphill. Following an incredulous gasp, they all started giggling. They must have thought I am crazy.
As I parted, they all lovingly sent me off.

I reached a town called Lampang in the afternoon. I had two flat tires on the way and I had to fix them on the Asian Super highway under the afternoon sun. I was quite exhausted when I reached a little Mom and Pop store in a quiet corner. I stopped and asked for something vegetarian.
Flustered by the unusual request,
The old store lady brought me a cup of instant noodles.
I sat and ate like I’d not seen food in a few days. She also brought bananas, water and grape juice.
I shared that I am cycling up north to Chiang Mai.
I gestured that my ride since morning has been uphill. She nodded as she turned the table fan towards me.
She exuded such motherly care that I didn’t want to get up and leave the shop.
She refuse to charge me for food. I got away with atleast paying for the instant noodles, ‘Mama’ as they call it in Thailand.

I bicycled on for another couple of hours, all the way, Uphill. It was difficult. At some points I would just laugh out loud wondering how difficult it was !
As the evening set in, I started wondering about finding a shelter. I searched for temples nearby but there were none around the Asian Super highway.
Eventually I stopped at a highway police station to catch a breath.
I sat on a bench and wondered, I am not going to be able to cycle another 30 kms uphill today. I must put an end to cycling for the day.
I looked around to find a highway police man come towards me with his phone.
He used a Thai-English translation app to communicate with me.
His translation read.

‘Do you have a tent me dear friend?’
I nodded animatedly.

‘You can set it up right here and sleep tight for the night.’
I couldn’t believe how eager he was to help.
Later on he came to me and led me to a room with a bed in the police station.
The translation on his phone read,
‘You can sleep on the bed. No need to set up your tent.’
I hadn’t felt so grateful in a long time.
I wrote in his phone,
‘You have a kind soul.’
He smiled like a child.

Right now, I am sitting in the comfortable bed that my Policeman-friend generously offered me.
And I wonder,
‘Why are all these amazing people helping me so much?’
‘Is it because I am on a bicycle?
Or because I am Indian?
Or do I look in need of help?’

Then I realised,
More than anything else,
I am being helped,
for the spirit of choosing to ride,
Up the hill.

Enabling my dream

April 6, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

Today, after a long 5 hour ride, I stopped at a town called Saraburi. It has been hard to find vegetarian food in Thailand so far. I looked around for half an hour for vegetarian food but there was nothing available. In the end I stopped at a small family run snack joint and asked for rice and eggs.
On realizing that I was on a long Bicycle trip, they asked me if I needed ice, or wanted to use the washroom. As I was leaving they gave me two ripe oranges to enjoy on the way. We waved goodbye to each other like kids as we parted ways.

Later in the day I stopped to eat at another stall. Since I was the only one there at lunch time, I sensed that they needed more business. I was surprised when they offered me free lunch!
I politely declined only to be given water and cucumbers to eat on the way.
I was moved by the empathy of people who only had so much to spare.

At night, I stopped at a Buddhist monastery. The monks were kind enough to let me sleep for the night. I set up my tent and prepared myself for bed.
Soon, two little monks brought me soya milk, a bottle of water, a muffin and mosquito repellent.
Adorably they wrote something in Thai in google translate.
The translation read
‘ We got it from the mess for you’

Curled up in my tent, I can only feel overwhelmed by gratitude.
How these little elements in my life, the small interactions, are only pushing me to fulfill my goal,
Of stumbling on kindness,
Of pursuing the hope of a compassionate world.

Earning Sleep

April 4, 2018 / Sreenath Sreenivasan / 0 Comments

I’ve been on a bicycle trip for the past 8 days now. One of the most adventurous parts of this mode of travel is the mystery about where you will sleep at night.
For the last seven days I had some kind of an arrangement of my stay beforehand. I either had a couch surfing host or I would book a bed in a hostel in advance. But today, I set out quite late in the day towards a national park, 150 kms away. I was sure I would only be able to cover 100 km in a day at my very best. So I knew that I would have to sleep somewhere in between. It was the first day I wasn’t sure of my bed.

Towards evening as I finished close to 80 kilometers, it kept getting darker by the minute. I’d heard that you can stay at Thai Buddhist temples at night. Luckily I found a temple and went inside.
After failing to communicate with three monks due to my language issue ,I was asked to meet the head monk. I wrote in google translate ‘Can I stay in the temple tonight?’
The monk read the Thai translation and said ‘Chai'(yes in Thai)
Oh the relief !
I was escorted into an open hall and given a mosquito net. Soon after, a thunderstorm struck that lasted for two hours. Secured under a ceiling, I felt fortunate to have decided to not cycle further.
As I lay on my Yoga mat and write,
I cannot help but smile and wonder,
It doesn’t matter where my body lay,
As long as I’ve worked hard enough to earn my sleep.
Grateful for the kindness of strangers and content with the hard work of the day,
Sleep is only moments away.