Maybe, This Is The Power Of Contentment

old man sitting

The world is a box of complaints and we keep on filling it with one or the other every day. Poor have issues that they don’t have enough to spend, rich say, they do not know where to spend. Some, do not like their parent’s interference, some complain that their children are worth for nothing. There are complaints about food, relationships, friendships, parenting and what not, but people do not feel contented with what they have. Every person has a greedy heart which forces him or her to yearn for more and more till the life comes to an end.

But, I think the beauty of contentment is far beyond anything which everyone cannot admire. The person, who learns it, doesn’t need any other power to live, achieve or simply dream. Now, why am I sharing such high values is because I have met a person who proves that contentment gives a new meaning to start your life all over again.

I joined a new company recently and was assigned to work with an elderly gentleman, might be in his early sixties. On my first day, he introduced himself to me and told about his experiences, past jobs and his command over writing. He had a special aura, calmness on his face as he proudly narrated about his works with media and daily newspaper companies.

It’s natural that when we join a new workplace or we go to any unknown place we feel a kind of discomfort, but, my introduction with him motivated me to work with the team and know more.

He used to come quite late according to our office timings. I thought, because of his post and position he might be having this leverage but one day one of my colleagues told me he used to come late in the morning but justified his working hours by staying till late in the evening.

So, it was a casual working day and I had to stay back for a little longer at the office. I got a chance to have a conversation with him. He always had an everlasting smile on his face and this made him friendlier. I had booked my cab and was waiting for it and meanwhile asked him what conveyance did he use to travel. He smiled and replied, ‘Hamara Bajaj’. I giggled and said, ‘a scooter?’ in a little surprising manner.  Carrying that incessant smile on his face he said he loved his scooter a lot and felt comfortable to ride it. Gradually, I threw all my questions on him and he kept on answering them with interest and a meaning. He said he lived in the city all alone, his wife left for her heavenly abode at a very young age as she had blood cancer. Doctors discovered her illness just four days before she died. Hearing this, I felt a sudden flow of current in my veins which made me more curious to know about him.  He cooked his own meals, washed his own clothes and did all the daily chores all by himself and this decent job kept him busy and in contact with people. Coming late to office was not a leverage for him but his failure to wind up all his household work and reach on time, for that he even felt embarrassed.  His two children moved to pursue their own careers just two years after the mishap. He felt bad for them too, as they lost their mother very early. But this man had no complaints. He said he had beautiful memories with his wife to cherish and those memories kept him motivated. He even shared his deep longing to visit his son and daughter some day and his time to fly overseas…

That day I returned home and sat on my bed recalling his face and his words. How we complain about each and everything and every person we meet?  Today, people of his age think of retiring and enjoying their holidays with their families. We take everything for granted, even if we are away from our loved ones we have that leverage to call or visit them but what about him? I was caught in the thought that how it feels to return home and see a vacant house, cook alone only for one member and eat alone sitting on a single chair and table and lead the rest of the life with a thought that this is your story because the person with whom you had to share your whole life forever will never return…

Maybe, he is having this sadness somewhere deep inside, maybe, tears roll down his cheeks when he is alone, or maybe, this is the power of contentment…

One Response

  1. Yug Choudhary 3 years ago

Add Comment

twenty − 3 =