"And now, dear children, we present to you a wizard who will entertain you with his tricks and share his knowledge of magic. Let's hear some applause !", announced the host of the event as a bunch of primary and middle school kids looked on curiously at the table placed in the center of the stage for the upcoming performance. The firm's CSR team had helped the school establish its own library - furnished with books and a desktop computer, a luxury most schools in rural India cannot easily afford. This small institution, a walled area of barren land in the village of Neev, a major detour from the city roads in Gurgaon, was among the few to have acquired these necessary school facilities. This was a day of celebration; the library had officially been launched.
As I walked up to the podium with a balloon in one hand and a soda bottle in the other, posing as a sorcerer to the innocuous and clueless group of little children gathered in the courtyard around a peepul tree planted in the middle of the small compound they call school, I decided I would tell them the truth. There is no such concept as magic; it is merely an art of playing with science. Magic lies in craftily deceiving your audience, cloaking their minds with the mist of fantasy that they cannot see through. My purpose today was quite the opposite - it was to make them aware of this mist and implore them to follow logic and reason so that they could someday conjure their own magic tricks.
I took my place in the center stage under the light of the morning sun. I looked directly at the crowd of little faces staring expectantly at me, and opened with a question that elicited a favourable response from the majority of children.
"How many of you would want to become magicians when you grow up?"
At once, scores of hands shot up in the air.
"Thank you dear children", I continued. "That is an encouraging sight to see. Now let me tell you something about magic."
As I walked up to the podium with a balloon in one hand and a soda bottle in the other, posing as a sorcerer to the innocuous and clueless group of little children gathered in the courtyard around a peepul tree planted in the middle of the small compound they call school, I decided I would tell them the truth. There is no such concept as magic; it is merely an art of playing with science. Magic lies in craftily deceiving your audience, cloaking their minds with the mist of fantasy that they cannot see through. My purpose today was quite the opposite - it was to make them aware of this mist and implore them to follow logic and reason so that they could someday conjure their own magic tricks.
I took my place in the center stage under the light of the morning sun. I looked directly at the crowd of little faces staring expectantly at me, and opened with a question that elicited a favourable response from the majority of children.
"How many of you would want to become magicians when you grow up?"
At once, scores of hands shot up in the air.
"Thank you dear children", I continued. "That is an encouraging sight to see. Now let me tell you something about magic."
By the end of the twenty minutes for which I occupied the podium, I had told them about the far-reaching possibilities of science. I had demonstrated experiments embodying various guiding principles of nature. I had encouraged the kids to think out loud, and maybe ignited a spark for inculcating scientific temperament. I had spoken to an aspiring girl pilot, listened to a young boy sing, and suggested drawing tips to a bunch of pre-school kids in the activities that followed. While doing so, I had spent my time on something I really liked, something that fetched a different kind of contentedness no amount of money can proffer - something I haven't been able to accomplish in the last few years.
That day, I finished my work efficiently and returned home from office earlier than my usual schedule. I logged on to youtube, looked up 'guitar lessons' and plucked at the strings of my Fender for the next hour. Music has a rejuvenating effect - it carries you away into another world, curing your fatigue and soothing your senses, making you forget the problems and miseries that daunt your mind. I closed my eyes, and after a while, the only sound reaching my ears was the cadence of notes bouncing off the soundboard, resonating in the closed room. I am not a seasoned musician, not even a dilettante, but the beauty of a guitar lies in its ability to read its master and play along. Those erratic, uneven chords gradually acquired rhythm as I strummed an unknown tune, played my own chords and hummed my own song.
That was perhaps one of the best days in the year gone by. A welcome deviation from normality. A day of realization - that there are things more meaningful and impactful than a routine corporate job, that you can find happiness in sources richer than money, that you are capable of magically changing lives, including your own. A day when I had acquired control.
A day of liberation.
2013 was crammed with work and travel and preparation for that coveted business school degree. Now that I don't have to bother about one of these anymore, I think I now know what my new year's resolution for 2014 is going to be.
That was perhaps one of the best days in the year gone by. A welcome deviation from normality. A day of realization - that there are things more meaningful and impactful than a routine corporate job, that you can find happiness in sources richer than money, that you are capable of magically changing lives, including your own. A day when I had acquired control.
A day of liberation.
2013 was crammed with work and travel and preparation for that coveted business school degree. Now that I don't have to bother about one of these anymore, I think I now know what my new year's resolution for 2014 is going to be.
