I will respect my elders.
I will help others.
I will say the truth.
I will be a good human being.
Sometime in the late eighties. A school classroom. Charts with drawings in crayons hang around its walls. A lady teacher with thick plastic rimmed glasses, facing a class of four year olds, who sit on little wooden chairs and write the above lines in their brown little notebooks.There is a child on first bench. She makes the short children sit in the front so that she can see when they are not listening. That child writes down the lines too with his chicken scratch handwriting. That child used to spell a being as beeng at that time. But he did write the lines.
I will be a good human beeng.
A simple sentence. A sentence that is made up of simple thoughts. Respect elders. Help others. Be kind. Say the truth. Four year olds are innocent people. They believe everything their teachers tell them. That child too believed what she told him. That he was to be a good human being when he grows up. That child wanted to be a good human being when he grew up.
Twenty years later, that child sits on the chair in front of his PC typing words you read now. He has grown up now. He studied his books. Went on to become an engineer. Over the years, he was faced with a lot of choices. And he made many choices. I don't know if he evolved, but he changed.
Amongst the trigonometry lessons, the thick books of software engineering and the prolonged lectures on computer languages , he forgot that sentence he wrote in that little, brown covered notebook that day. No, wait. Maybe he did not forget. But he did not care much about it. The world did not care much about it, either. Nobody, including himself, asked “Are you a good human being, as you promised once ?”
They applauded only when u proved urself better than others. Faster than others. Sharper than others....Being a good man did not matter much to anybody, and he believed it did not matter to him as well. He was no longer that child. I have not been good so far. I have hurt people, I have said things which have tore apart hearts of good souls, I have been indifferent , not caring about who I really am now, who that child was, and not caring if me and the child would ever meet again, talk again, be one again.
But today, the dusty clouds have parted a little, and a long forgotten, once familiar sound of a child has managed to flow in like the first rays of a winter dawn. And the voice says “I wanted to be a good human beeng . Why have you become this ? Don’t you remember me ?” And today, the grown up man wants to listen to that child, and believe in that child, and be that child. Because after a long time, he has found that he wants to become a person who believes in being good more than being better. Who wants to help a million hands rather than to control a million people. who looks at the world from the selfless eyes of that child I once was, without the layers of selfishness this life wraps around us adults .
The white cloud of simplicity I have found, gives me the strength to try to be that child again, to realize who I really am, and to be good again. I know people will read this. Some people will think I am not a good man. Some people will think I am not practical enough. Some people will think I will change. Some people will think that i probably would forget these words soon enough. Some people will think I do not have the courage to be who I say I want to be. Some people will think I do not know what I really want to be. Some people would not understand, and will think I do not understand.
All I can say is, I know what this means to me. And I do not expect many to understand what this means to me. I am talking to that child again. Even though I do not have that brown little notebook today , that page has not been clearer to me before today. And I will be a good human “beeng”. Maybe not faster. Maybe not sharper. Maybe not a winner for the world. But definitely a good human being.
I will help others.
I will say the truth.
I will be a good human being.
Sometime in the late eighties. A school classroom. Charts with drawings in crayons hang around its walls. A lady teacher with thick plastic rimmed glasses, facing a class of four year olds, who sit on little wooden chairs and write the above lines in their brown little notebooks.There is a child on first bench. She makes the short children sit in the front so that she can see when they are not listening. That child writes down the lines too with his chicken scratch handwriting. That child used to spell a being as beeng at that time. But he did write the lines.
I will be a good human beeng.
A simple sentence. A sentence that is made up of simple thoughts. Respect elders. Help others. Be kind. Say the truth. Four year olds are innocent people. They believe everything their teachers tell them. That child too believed what she told him. That he was to be a good human being when he grows up. That child wanted to be a good human being when he grew up.
Twenty years later, that child sits on the chair in front of his PC typing words you read now. He has grown up now. He studied his books. Went on to become an engineer. Over the years, he was faced with a lot of choices. And he made many choices. I don't know if he evolved, but he changed.
Amongst the trigonometry lessons, the thick books of software engineering and the prolonged lectures on computer languages , he forgot that sentence he wrote in that little, brown covered notebook that day. No, wait. Maybe he did not forget. But he did not care much about it. The world did not care much about it, either. Nobody, including himself, asked “Are you a good human being, as you promised once ?”
They applauded only when u proved urself better than others. Faster than others. Sharper than others....Being a good man did not matter much to anybody, and he believed it did not matter to him as well. He was no longer that child. I have not been good so far. I have hurt people, I have said things which have tore apart hearts of good souls, I have been indifferent , not caring about who I really am now, who that child was, and not caring if me and the child would ever meet again, talk again, be one again.
But today, the dusty clouds have parted a little, and a long forgotten, once familiar sound of a child has managed to flow in like the first rays of a winter dawn. And the voice says “I wanted to be a good human beeng . Why have you become this ? Don’t you remember me ?” And today, the grown up man wants to listen to that child, and believe in that child, and be that child. Because after a long time, he has found that he wants to become a person who believes in being good more than being better. Who wants to help a million hands rather than to control a million people. who looks at the world from the selfless eyes of that child I once was, without the layers of selfishness this life wraps around us adults .
The white cloud of simplicity I have found, gives me the strength to try to be that child again, to realize who I really am, and to be good again. I know people will read this. Some people will think I am not a good man. Some people will think I am not practical enough. Some people will think I will change. Some people will think that i probably would forget these words soon enough. Some people will think I do not have the courage to be who I say I want to be. Some people will think I do not know what I really want to be. Some people would not understand, and will think I do not understand.
All I can say is, I know what this means to me. And I do not expect many to understand what this means to me. I am talking to that child again. Even though I do not have that brown little notebook today , that page has not been clearer to me before today. And I will be a good human “beeng”. Maybe not faster. Maybe not sharper. Maybe not a winner for the world. But definitely a good human being.
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