Is it not obvious? Maybe not!

1.    “Any fool can count the seeds in an apple. Only God can count all the apples in one seed.” -Robert H Schuller

2.    “Last week's potatoes! They now can remember what was going on in my mind a year ago—a mind which has long ago been replaced.” - Richard Feynman

3.    “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.” ― Heraclitus.

It is a cliché to say that things are not what they appear to be. However, I cannot help dwelling on this fact because of the ubiquitous examples confronted daily that kick in the reality check if one is willing to ponder.

In 1999 July I was accompanying my forest service trainees as their faculty to Valley of Flowers in Uttarakhand (it was still Uttar Pradesh then). We had driven from Dehradun to Govindghat by road, trekked for four hours from there to Ghangharia and halted for the night.

Among thousands of colorful flowers in the Valley we could also see many Brahma kamals, the state flower of Uttarakhand, on the higher slopes.It is a marvel that myriad flowers bloom in the renowned Valley only for a couple of months and then the land is completely buried under thick snow. It is Nature’s reminder that all things – beauty, youth, success, failure, pain, pleasure- are ephemeral. In our life we pursue good things and effort tirelessly to avoid unpleasant things but all the time they are simply whizzing past. The fact is that whatever one possesses temporarily needs to be passed on to others - willingly during lifetime or by default after death. This realization- not only intellectually but subconsciously too- can be very liberating and a harbinger of peace for the soul.

I never visited Valley of Flowers again but its tranquility still reminds me of Nida Fazli’s lines:

 दीवार-ओ-दर से उतर के परछाइयाँ बोलती हैं
कोई नहीं बोलता जब तनहाइयाँ बोलती हैं I

सुन ने की मोहलत मिले तो आवाज़ है पतझरों में
उजड़ी हुई बस्तियों में आबादियाँ बोलती हैं II

After visiting Valley of Flowers we rested overnight at Ghangaria again and trekked to Hemkund Sahab the day after. All my trainees were in the prime of their youth and I was forty years old but still bubbling with energy. Yet, all of us found the trek to Hemkund Sahab quite tough. Each day in the evening during our stay at Ghangharia I used to have a mild headache that was probably due to lack of oxygen or it could be due to profuse sweating while climbing the steep slopes and then rapid cooling of the body while resting.

While there were very few visitors to Valley of Flowers, there were many devotees visiting Hemkund Sahab because the shrine is opened only from May to October every year and then shuts down due to intense winter that even freezes the lake in front of the Gurudwara. That day we climbed the slope braving heavy downpour while a strong cold wind nipped our skin. At the end of the ascent we were rewarded by a welcome hot cup of tea and sweet halwa at Hemkund Sahab; invariably served with love and great humility in Gurudwaras all over the world.

We started the descent from Hemkund Sahab to Ghangharai slowly for the third overnight stay. On our way down I could see many visitors of all ages struggling to maneuver the climb. It is said that faith can move a mountain; I could definitely see the faith moving the people on the mountain.

 Among the motley crowd there was this old unaccompanied Sikh gentleman completely on his own, probably seventy-five years old, making his way up with great difficulty on his weak legs. He was propping himself now and then on a big stick that he was carrying for support. I could see him sweating profusely and completely out of breath. As I crossed him he asked me, “How far is it to the Gurudwara from this point?” To me the question was straight forward and the answer was obvious too. Puffing with the manly pride of having successfully completed the climb earlier, I blurted, “Baba ji, you have still not crossed the half way mark to the destination!”

My response disheartened the old man. His disappointment coupled with fatigue were visibly seen on his face. I walked away feeling foolish about my answer to the old man. Once I was out of his earshot I was gently advised by a another seasoned trekker, “In a hilly area whenever someone asks a similar question about the remaining distance to the destination, we should never answer the way you responded. We should always encourage him by saying that the destination is just round the next bend so that his morale is never down.”

It was a sobering advice that I learnt to use later not only while trekking but also for encouraging fellow beings on a life journey when they face difficult times and lack the self -assurance to fight adversity. One need not dispel hope by stating the obvious when chips are down. Hope will encourage to surmount even the most demanding obstacles. After all, for making the journey more pleasant there is no harm in humming:

 वक़्त अच्छा भी आएगा 'नासिर'

 ग़म न कर ज़िंदगी पड़ी है अभी I

 Since childhood I have been groomed to avoid wastage; it is almost a fetish with me. I do not waste food and I see to it that I switch off light or fan once I leave a room. I do not keep the water tap running while brushing my teeth or while shaving. These were the teachings that were drilled in us in Moral Science classes in my school. I had always believed that preventing wastage is the most desirable trait for any society. In the context of environment, I was instructed regularly that one should leave the least ecological footprint on the planet earth and it had never occurred to me that there could be a different perspective to my position.

The other day I was having a dinner with family friends at heir home. The food had already been served on the dining table and the lady of the house was making hot rotis for us in the adjoining kitchen.  From the table I called out to her that she needed to make only two rotis for me. The gentleman host, head of the family, assured me rather generously that they did not count rotis when a meal was being served and I did not need to tell in advance about the amount of food I wanted to eat. I informed him proudly that I was very particular that food should not be wasted and I tried to ensure this even when guests arrived in my house. The host looked at me disapprovingly and said, “That is a very impolite way of treating your guests. We will have to think twice before coming to your house as we would feel bad if you asked us in advance how many rotis we would eat.”

I defended my stand strongly, “What is the harm in being informal if it prevents food wastage?” I thought I was on a strong wicket and there could be no sane argument against my position. For me food wastage amounted to a sin.

However, the host stumped me by a rejoinder, “Why do you assume that all food cooked in the kitchen is for us alone? There are beggars who are roaming hungry on the roads and animals too- cows, dogs, cats, crows, squirrels and ants – that need to survive on what you leave on the table.”

The penny dropped for me. During my childhood the first roti cooked in the kitchen in every meal was called “गाये की  रोटी” and the last one was called ‘कुत्ते  की  रोटी’. During unlucky and hard times, spiritual people earnestly advise us to feed ants or fish to gain blessings of the spirits of the universe. I learnt the term Vasudhaiva Kudumbakam much later in life but the essence behind it lay in those simple homely routines and practices. My view on food wastage in personal life so far suddenly appeared less pragmatic or morally sound to me.

Further brooding on that conversation led me to conclude that nothing is actually wasted in Nature; including tears, regrets, smiles and even something intangible like time. There may be consequences but no waste and the difference between the two may not be very obvious. If the reader is not convinced, I will end up with few questions to think over. What is wasted when a huge star collapses in to a black hole or when a comet blazes across the horizon leaving a trail of cosmic dust? What is wasted when water evaporates over the oceans, condenses and falls as rain elsewhere and then back to sea incessantly? What is wasted when a specracular rainbow appears briefly and disappears the next moment. From the Nature’s perspective the answer will be: nothing!