Safar

After travelling for 3.5 hours from Udaipur, the bus stopped at a small restaurant somewhere 50 kms from Pali. The stoppage was supposed to be very brief, perhaps 10 minutes. I got down and went across the opposite side of road, far from everyone's sight to pee. I preferred natural soil more than a toilet to be the more worthy recipient of my holy water. I give my love to where it's needed than to waste it somewhere where it doesn't make much of a difference. I walked back across the road to the restaurant. Hot tea, snacks were available. My sight was beholden by a pack of Sona Chakri. The name on packet seemed suitable to be nickname of a friend, so I bought one to send a pic to her. 

Then, I bought a cup of tea for me and another one for my sister Sanjana. Taking out money from wallet while my hands were occupied with multiple items was a daunting task and required assistance of my sister and the shopkeeper. After paying for everything, as me and Sanju took the first sip of our tea, I heard the bus blazing horn, calling passengers in. My intuition gave a conclusion immediately: "leave chai here, get into the bus. ". I put my tea aside and asked Sanju to leave it and get to the bus. 

As we took two steps away, the person who had prepared the tea called us from behind "sir chai to pi jao". I replied "nhi bus ja rhi hai". Seeing this, the bus conductor who hadn't stpped into the bus said "peelo chai peelo.. andar hi le aao". The conductor and the tea man shared a glance, convincing each other that they had relieved themselves of guilt and had solved a dilemma. The tea man wanted us to enjoy what we had paid for. The conductor wanted to not portray himself as making passengers rush with their tea cups full. But, the bus driver was in a different mood, he was ahead of this romance and pushed the throttle and sounded horn, slowly taking the bus backwards out from the parking. We picked our tea -one in paper cup and another one in kullhad, and brisked towards the bus. I realised we can't make it without spilling most tea. So I spilled 60% tea on open ground and asked Sanju to do the same. All of this was happening while the bus was slowly reversing. 

Somehow, we got into the bus with our tea cups half, and started walking towards our seat - second from the rear end. The bus was full, with 3-4 people standing. Everyone cleared the way for us. Women pulled their children away with terror "hat ja beta. garam chai hai iske paas". I lowered my paper cup to the level of my knees to avoid spilling chai onto their faces. Finally, to everyone relief I made it to my seat and spilled a little there on floor and on my seat. Sanjana too reached behing me. We cleaned the seat and sat on it, wondering why did we bring the tea here. Drinking water from bottle was difficult enough, sipping tea from cup was impossible while in a moving bus. Only 20% tea was left in our cups by now, rest spilled. Sanju: "we did all this effort for this one ghoot of chai?". We had to throw the tea with cup out the window, taking care that it doesn't fly onto the face of person sitting just behind us on last seat. Then we sang together "I tried so hard and got so far.. In the end, it doesn't even matter.". 

It did matter, however. Our choices define us. We didn't bring the cups so far for one sip of tea. It was out of our fear of offending the tea man. When two people together said the same thing, I felt assured and didn't use my mind anymore, believing them. Sanju just followed me, she doesn't immediately question me on anything. We spared the guilt for tea man and conductor, and also saved the time for other passengers by not making the bus wait. We got in, albeit by spilling most of the tea. Inside bus, however, we did create fear. We hadn't properly calculated how inconvenient would it be to carry the tea inside. 

Thee tea man asked us to drink tea first as he wanted us to enjoy what we paid for. However, his suggestion was more of an emotional predisposition. He didn't take into consideration the pressure we were feeling to get into the bus when the bus sounded horn. The conductor asked us to take the tea in, but this recommendation too was meant to emotionally pacify the anxiety of tea man and us. It too didn't take into consideration the inconvenience we would have to encounter while taking the hot tea in a bus on a bumpy ride. The conductor knew well that it was not possible to drink tea while the bus is moving, but in that moment his suggestion was not a result of a thoughtful calculation, it was just an instantaneous expression aimed at balancing the interests of all parties - the time for bus, the cost of chai for us. We shouldn't have blindly trusted something, even if it was said by two people. We should have trusted our intuition and carefully given 5 seconds to decide whether or not to take the tea inside. In just 5 to 10 seconds, I could have come at right conclusion. Instead, I sleepwalked hearing whatever came from around. It wasn't the right decision. 

People say things that make them feel good, proud of themselves, relieving themselves of guilt - It's their duty towards themselves. But, It's our duty to consciously decide whether the thing we are walking into is within our capacity or not. It's our duty to think through future possibilities of pleasure and pain, and make preparations and adjustments for them accordingly. There's no point in sleepwalking through life, agreeing to a decision subconsciously, walking with it through a long journey, only to dispose of it in vain roadside. What is to be lost tomorrow, may better be lost today - more so if the journey too wouldn't be worthwhile. 

It's worth noting an idea I've across in a statement by Alain De Botton regarding choices. Choices in life are not choices between 'happiness' and 'pain', they are choices between pains of different types. While evaluating choices, we should consider "what kind of pain am I willing to carry ? What kind of pain will give meaning to my life?". The right choice is the one which involves pain that we find pleasure in.