Bad perhaps, but so good

Rahul Walia

THE small hill town of McLeodganj is the confluence of various religions and cultures. Its natural bounty, deep forests of deodars, fresh cool air and the majestic Dhauladhars lift the spirits. One evening, while waiting for a cab for Dharamsala, a foreigner, aged but robust with backpacks and an umbrella, approached me. ‘Hi, I am David Cook,’ he introduced himself. 

I introduced myself too. ‘Well,  Mr Raeehool, what do you do?’ 

‘I am a teacher.’ ‘Great! What do you teach?’

‘General science, Sir.’ ‘Well, Mr Teacher!’ he changed my name as well as his tone. ‘If you are a teacher, you need to teach many things to Indians.’

‘Pardon me?’ 

‘You need to teach your countrymen not to spit on streets. You need to teach them to use garbage bins. Teach them to speak in low tone in public places. I hope I am not embarrassing you, Mr Teacher?’

I nodded. I wanted to argue, but couldn’t find any words.

‘Mr Teacher, teach them not to stare at foreigners with bizarre looks. You know, it’s quite irritating!’ 

He stopped, but left my mind in turbulence. The calmness I had gathered from my walk was lost. 

He was walking away like a winner without even saying bye. ‘I need to respond to him,’ I thought to myself. I ran to him.

‘Mr Cook!’ I shouted, but politely.

‘Yes, please?’ he looked back at me.

‘My India spits on streets, I agree. My India doesn’t use bins, I agree. I agree to all your opinions. But I have a question.’ 

‘Of course,’ he was a bit shaken, I could sense. ‘What brings you to India?’‘Well, spirituality, natural beauty, yoga and… the inner peace I feel here. It’s amazing,’ he answered honestly. 

‘If you are here for all these things,’ I said, ‘how do you get time to see the spit, garbage and other things?’ 

I continued: ‘While milking a cow, one must concentrate on just that, not on the dung. And, if you do, you will end up messing it.’ 

That was spontaneous, somewhere from the inner core... maybe something about the deodars, or the Dhauladhars. I was hyperventilated. As I tried to catch my breath, Mr Cook responded. ‘So Mr Raeehool! Should I leave now? Back to the US?’

‘No, Mr Cook! Spend some more time in India. I wish you learn to master your mind to achieve your goals, the real one.’ 

We shook hands, bade goodbye and exchanged our contact details.

Last week, we met over coffee. He was quite happy to share with me that he had been a part of team ‘Waste Warriors’ in McLeodganj over the past two months, besides practising meditation and yoga. And, he was leaving for the US, with a promise to see my India again.