Being at
that particular stage in life where one is sensitive to signs of one’s age, being called “Uncle”
is particularly cruel. And twice in two days by people who are on the wrong
side of 25, kind of hammers it in for good.
The woman
who called me that today at the hypermarket was carrying her baby, a bright
eyed cute and cuddly package that one normally smiles at. And when she asked me
for a swap of my trolley, I almost refused. Being a stickler for these kind of things,
I usually pull out the trolley, check the wheel alignment and back and then
decide to use it. But then, the reason won me over – the trolley that she was
using, had a baby seat that didn’t open properly and therefore, she wanted to get
one that did. The husband stood behind her, anxious to step in if I refused.
And I didn’t have the heart to.
And so I
ended up pushing a trolley that had a slight kink in one wheel and a dummy baby
seat around the hypermarket. With my son in tow, the job got over pretty fast
and about an hour later, we were out of there with him wheeling the cart laden
with the weekly supplies and some more odds and ends. A couple of feet more to
the gate and I heard a loud crash. The back of the cart had opened up and a
bottle of honey, a box of eggs and some vegetables had fallen onto the floor.
There is
nothing like an accident like this to sour the mood and the broken eggs and
near cracked bottle of honey did its bit to make the afternoon pale around the
edges. We gathered the stuff as best as well as we could muttering about how
these people should make sure that the carts are properly fixed. The walk
turned a little nightmarish as we had brought the stuff in the cart to load as
it is without any bags. A couple of times, the back came off and things slid
out making our mental condition even worse. Finally, we got the stuff loaded up
with no more mishaps and sat down, heaving a sigh of relief. Both of us were
complaining about the loss of eggs, the bottle of honey, and the near misses of
the yogurt.
And it
suddenly occurred to us, that if things hadn’t changed, the baby would have
probably been sitting in that ill-fitting baby seat which would have rested on
the back of the trolley. God forbid that something would have happened and that
bundle of joy had come to some pain. That thought quenched all of us down as
quickly as a bucket of water poured on a matchstick. Some stroke of luck had
intervened or maybe providence itself, and the lady had seen me with an empty
trolley and exchanged hers with me. There is a providence after all. And maybe
today was the day when He chose to intervene and rearrange things a little bit.
How many
times in our lives do we call on Him to come to our rescue and we all know of
the countless times, He does. But do we even realize that there are so many
occasions when we don’t even know that there is a threat and He effortlessly
manages it for us. Do we thank Him for all those times? Speaking personally for
myself, I am a selfish enough believer who calls for help when I need it. And
so, these invisible touches would most certainly go unnoticed if it had not
been for the baby. Would I even be aware of this providential angle if it had
not been for the baby? If the woman had come without the baby and if I had
refused, would I have been guilty?
But this
afternoon after that, as we sat around discussing it, never were we more aware
of the fact that there are always two sides to the things that we see. The side
which we see, are familiar with and judge. And then there is the other side,
the invisible side, only visible to the other that has suffered it or who knows
it. And that it’s not true only for the incidents in our lives but also our
words and actions. And in all those circumstances, are we aware of the baby who
was saved by the bottle of honey and the box of eggs? What therefore was Heads
and what was Tails and who won?
