Having a fractured foot can be an edifying experience, is the latest lesson in my Book of Life, It gives you another perspective-into the not so hunky dory side of life. You get to know what a masterpiece creation of God the human form is, when one, small part of the mechanism conks out, the system is thrown completely out of gear. Every limb and muscle coordinated to perfection, the motor nerves conditioned to obey the dictates of the brain and life ambles along peacefully. And then comes one minor snag in the scheme of things and all goes haywire. You twist an ankle and get your leg all plastered. With the unexpectedness of winter rain, comes the realization that you can’t budge an inch if your ankle gives way. The movements we take so much for granted, the simple act of walking, even running, scaling flights of stairs, commuting on the metro, dodging in and out of shops…all take a backseat. All normal activities became ordeals, managing to move within the house is a challenge and one looks enviously at ordinary mortals sashaying about in their daily routine.
That having been said, having your leg in a cast and putting up with the inconvenience is just one side of the coin. When you have to suffer weeks of such existence many home truths dawn. The most important being not ever to take anything for granted. To value the gifts of the Almighty and not-wantonly or otherwise-to ever abuse them. And if at all, such minor mishaps happen, to bear them with a smile and remember the cloud will last but a while-the sun will eventually break through the overcast sky.
The experience also gives you new insights-you empathize that much more with the old and infirm, the obese, the physically challenged for whom moving with difficulty is a way of life; without let up. And each time you’re close to reaching the end of your tether the hard-hitting line-I complained that I had no shoes, till I met a man who had no feet-saves you from giving in to despair, just in the nick of time. You feel ashamed of cribbing about your temporary disability even as you acquire a heightened sensibility about the world around you.
Another aspect of this phase is the gratifying realization that there’s a huge amount of empathy and understanding that such a situation generates. At home, you expect folks to be sympathetic and caring (though the thoughtful ministrations of the maid still move you) but it is when everyone at the workplace shows so much concern that you really feel touched. Right from getting the work station temporarily shifted to the ground floor because going up two floors is out of the question, to everyone holding all meetings at your desk, to organizing all demos in the meeting room adjacent to your seat, to the pantry guys serving and bringing your food downstairs, it all beggars description. I've lost count how many helping hands were extended to me each day when I arrived at work, how many times thoughtful colleagues collected print-outs to prevent the short walk to the printer, or how one of the administrative staff unfailingly carried my bag and baggage (!!) and left only after connecting the laptop. Countless acts of kindness, innumerable warm gestures that are stored forever in my memory. (But on the flip side, the truth in Rahim's well-known couplet, "Rahiman vipda ho bhali, jo thode din hoye, hit, unhit ya jagat me , jaani parat sab koye." " is also brought home to you the hard way!!)
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