The Urban(e) Feeling

Every weekday morning my mobile alarm goes at 5 am and with a half-open eye I finger the mobile to silence the alarm. Even a 5 minute delay getting out of the bed can mean a lot when living in an urban city where all people move along the same direction to work. You can even call it the direction towards achieving their goal or ambition. The very thought of missing the train at 8.45 am, reaching the deserted share-auto stands at 9.00 am and waiting forever outside the elevator to get up eight floors at 9.15 am gets me out of the bed. But then there are somedays’ where I use the back-up alarm and give myself a 15min grace period with my pillows and blanket. And today was one such morning.

 

After reclaiming my oral hygiene, I pick up the milk packets outside the house and come back to the living room with the hot cup of coffee in ten minutes. And this how my weekday routine begins. The only 5 minutes of my morning that I don’t compromise or economize is my coffee time, but I still multi-task. With coffee tumbler in one hand and iPad on the other, I quickly check my mailboxes (personal and work) to mentally make a list of things to accomplish for the day. Anything outside the list, be it a wedding reception or a hospital visit or catching up with a friend is parked for the weekend, until or otherwise it screams emergency.

I reach the gym within the next 20 minutes and I make eye contact and exchange pleasantries, but rarely strike a conversation with fellow healthy souls. And when I do, my brain rings an alarm and reminds me of the huge Masai Mara migration outside Tidel Park at Thiruvanmiyur, Chennai. Not sure if I should call this focus, dedication or indifference, but this is how my urban life is and runs by the second hand and not the minute hand.

The request

I got back from the gym routine this morning, my grandfather who had come down from the village to spend a week with us, was waiting near the gate. Before I closed the gate behind me, he asked me to bring out the car and drive him to the nearest salon. I looked at him for a few seconds and asked if he had an appointment only with an intention to postpone his shaving plan to the evening. At the village, the barber would visit his home at my grandfather’s convenience and give him personalized attention, but in the city we visit the salon when the barber is free.

The guilt

I had invited my grandparents from the village to spend a week with me and I wanted to show my care and respect, but not delegate and dismiss it. This was not on my morning to-do list and if I had known this earlier, I would have cancelled my gym routine and happily taken him to the salon. But then how do I handle unplanned requests with a smiling face? Should I outsource or delegate?

Understanding my long pause, my grandfather volunteered to take an auto ride to the nearest salon and get a shave.

For more than 30+ years, my grandfather went out in the hot sun, watered and fertilized the mango trees, ensured they were plucked in-time and packed fresh consignments week after week for us. Today, I don’t have 15 mins to spare for him.

After my prolonged silence, he came back asking for lower denomination currency for the auto ride and shave. Without hesitation, I opened my wallet and shared all the change with him, along with that went euphoria and sense of achievement from the morning workout.

 

An hour later, my grandfather trudged back into the house, but with a beaming a big smile (minus the thick beard) and I was at the breakfast table with my head down, burdened by shame and guilt. He called for my grandmother and asked her if she had packed my lunch box with mangoes he had brought from the farm.

I felt uneasy and the commute to work felt longer than usual today morning, not because of the mad traffic, but from guilt and lack of time for loved ones. Later that morning, after I finished clearing my emails and after drawing up the check-list of activities for the day, I called up my grandfather to let him know that I plan to take him out in the evening to discuss our plans for his 81^st birthday. He spoke to me with the same warmth from before, I choked for a second and I realized how unconditional love doesn’t come with SLAs and doesn’t make a fuss about a simple “Yes or No” or “inability”.

From California to Chennai to Canberra, every one of us run the urban rut and focus and on meeting our SLAs at work and end up feeling guilty and helpless when it comes to loved ones. So, welcome to the urbane life where loved ones small favors they ask get pushed for the weekend, while work, helplessness and guilt gets right-of-way.