the power of choice

Last night close to 10.

I am sitting in an empty two bedroom flat alone with only my lonliness giving me company for the rest of the night. I can a hear distant muffled noise of a retiring city - faint noises of horns and engines. Apart from that there's not even a trace of civilization. In about an hour, my mom will call and wonder why such things don't bother me. I could sit here without making any noise, reading a book for the next half a dozen hours. I could and that always unsettles my mom - as if something was fundamentally wrong with me.

Today she would be glad to know that it does bother me. No; Not because it's so silent but because I didn't choose this tonight. Remember, I had written once about how once you say you have something, you lose it. Voila! My colleague had an urgent deadline and wanted the laptop for the weekend. He's promised me that after monday I can have the laptop for the rest of my life. Now, it doesn't matter that I will have it for the rest of my life - Since I imagined myself sitting and blogging tonight in my bean bag, I am upset. I have lived without a laptop for over three months but today I feel crippled without it.

Reminds me of an incident back in september when I had to go from Koramangala to Brigade road (in bangalore) in an autorickshaw. I wasn't (and still am not) extremely comfortable with the geography of bangalore. As always, with ignorance comes suspicion and this time, I was quite sure that I was being taken for a ride (pun intended). I felt so bitter that the driver could be so unscruplous to take advantage of my ignorance for a paltry ten rupees. All through the journey, I was trying really hard to control my anger and not say anything stupid. The fact that I was being cheated and that I couldn't do anything about it made me furious. I gave him a cold stare (that I am sure he didn't notice) and started walking towards Barrista.

Just outside the coffee shop was this young lad with a sheet explaining how he can't read/write/speak/hear and wanted some money. I took out a 20 rupees note and gave it to him. The kid showed me the rest of the donations which were in the order of hundreds. I thought for a second, took out a 100 rupees note and gave it to the kid. There I was cursing an auto driver for costing me 10 rupees extra and the next instant, I felt good about giving a kid (who I know nothing about and who probably is smiling behind my back for having cheaten me) 100 bucks.

I felt good because I chose to do it. What elaborate games we play with our conscience that sometimes when you take yourself out of the situation, you really feel silly. Had my colleague accepted to give me the laptop and had I been "gracious" enough to "sacrifice" my blogging time, I probably would have felt good about myself.

Such futile vanity!