Role Model

They say the grass is greener on the other side. Often, I would ponder over the meaning of this proverb. It is not that hard to comprehend, to be honest. But the more I pondered, the more I realized how deep it actually meant. In order to understand it better, I always tried to apply it in a real-life situation.

Fortunately, life has brought some amazing people to me, where I simply could not help, but fathom the meaning of this proverb in silence.

I had always admired Anna. She was my childhood heroine; someone who inspired me and indirectly taught me lessons of the real world. It was actually her shoes that compelled me to look up to her.

Anna was an adult in her early twenties, when I happened to have met her. She used to live with her mother alone in a very dark room, in the corner of the galli – a narrow lane created by space left between houses constructed haphazardly in shanties. Her mother had an extremely frail face and so heavily wrinkled to the point I started imagining spider cobwebs draped across. She was a pleasant old lady, who would often smile at me, whenever I passed by their home.

One evening, while playing hide-and-seek with my friends, I ran to hide near their house. As I stood at the corner of the galli and trying to peek at the exit for a glimpse of my friends, Anna came home from work. This was the first time I saw her.

She was wearing a white formal top, not fashionable (more like a school uniform type), a navy blue skirt that ran along the length of her legs and had her hair tied in a bun. She wore no accessories or jewellery and had a small bag, which I presume had her tiffin inside, hung around her right shoulder. She removed her bag and kept it across the drum containing the water, while holding on to the metal staircase of their neighbor’s as she struggled to get off her shoes. Taking them off, she placed them neatly outside her door. She washed her legs and started checking the utensils to confirm whether her mother had eaten the food she had prepared for her, before leaving for work.

I stared at those pair of shoes. I had seen them in the ‘Action school shoes’ ads on TV. They were neither well-polished nor did they have a shabby look about them. They looked like they had been in use for a long period of time, but had been greatly taken care of and well maintained. With a shock I realized, those shoes were the actual school shoes, which Anna must have worn during her school days.
I wondered why she couldn’t buy new shoes for herself. After all, she had a job now and could afford a decent pair of shoes. After all, my dad used to buy new pair of shoes whenever I moved up a school year.

It was that moment – standing hunched in the dark corner of the galli – I realized the importance of money. I realized the importance of parents. I realized the meaning of responsibility that comes with having a job.

Having a job and earning money does not mean blowing it up on personal desires, but rather use it for the betterment of self and of the people around you. Sure, one could argue about the unfairness of life and the situation around oneself. But, a wise person once said, “If you are born poor, it is not your fault. If you die poor, then it is your fault.”

Anna indirectly taught me the values of dedication, loving your parents, respecting time, respecting your situation while never losing focus on your actual goals (no matter whether it was simply paying your bills or taking care of your household chores). I went away from the galli in search of my friends. Years later, I would understand the significance of that moment and the chance meeting with Anna.

The last time I saw Anna was when I had gone to the Annual Family day of my Parish with my siblings. I saw her playing with her newborn daughter, dressed in a bright sari and wearing ornaments. She looked beautiful and joyous as she went walking past me cajoling her baby. I am sure she doesn’t know me. But yet, I am thankful that I got the chance to across a person like her.