God won’t like it

God won’t like it. . . . . these words always ring in my ears whenever doubt forges itself as reality of the world and starts to haunt the ever ongoing tussle between freedom and security in my mind. It happened on a warm evening of a summer some 3-4 years back. I had just learned that I had artistic expressions hidden in me and was in a dilemma. I had written and directed some plays which had given me immense pleasure and peace. (It did give me some acclaim. But the job of any art is to give peace & pleasure to the viewers and performers and I had pretty much succeeded in that)

Then there was this question lying in front of me. I was still in my college. And didn’t know whether to follow my dreams and go on my own. Or should I start to bend to the rules of the world and be what they expect of me. That would be a financial manager or some other ugly side of the same face. What should I do? My parents and teachers always warned me not fight against this world. Only few have succeeded in making it big in art. But there are lakhs who tried and screwed their own life and have given immense pain to those who love them. They told me not to be selfish and think of my pleasurable death. But should try for other’s comfortable life. Life of a vagabond artist is the cursed one. So I should not bring it upon me. I was still in my dilemma. . . . .when it happened.

I was sitting on the bench on MG Road. Now they have destroyed it completely because there is a metro rail project coming in Bangalore. Those days their used to be benches there. I was with my friend Kaushal and we were discussing things of life. Philosophy, Religion, Globalisation, etc. Suddenly two girls came there and tried to sell us flowers. No these were the flowers they had plucked from the Kariyappa garden, behind MG Road. I was feeling bad for them. . . .Maybe because I was feeling bad about myself. So I gave them some 5 Rupees, which they took with a radiant smile, and returned their flowers and said, “This is from me to you girls. Go enjoy”. They were exhilarated. It was not a good business but a lottery for them. They have the flowers with them which they can sell it to someone else and they have a 5 Rupee note! I liked their smiles and it made me happy, like the one you get after performing a good street play. It was worth 5 Rupees. Then the girls went away.

But something happened then.

One of the girls who had ran stood after going to distance, maybe talked something to her sister (or friend), and ran and came back to where we were sitting and she put the money on my lap and said. “No. . .Take it. God won’t like it. . . .” And she ran away.

I still remember every moment of that time, which was designed for me to learn and feel something. To this day whenever I feel the heat and urge to mend my ways and start being practical and think of money than peace, those words ring in my ears. . . .God won’t like it. That day, that girl listened to her heart!

Months later, in our local newspaper Prajavani, there was an article about that girl. She sells flowers on MG Road along with her mother and studies in a local govt school. What a beautiful way to educate oneself! After that day I buy flowers from her whenever possible. I remember her. But she never recognizes me. It doesn’t matter. Maybe God likes it this way.