It all started when… Wait! It think it is quite irrelevant on how it all started. Those two pairs of hands belong to my friend Susam and me. They wrap around a glass of badam milk, the last glass of badam milk at the eatery and probably one of the best glasses of badam milk both of us ever had in our lives. Now for those of you who are not from the Indian subcontinent (and of course, do not want to leave this page to google it out), badam is nothing but “almond” and badam milk is a tasty concoction made from, almonds, spices and milk!
As I said, it is irrelevant on how we got to this point. Neither is it relevant that one of us had already gulped down a glass and was laying claim to the other one’s. The only relevant thing is that, at some point today, there was a glass of badam milk, tasty badam milk, which both of us wanted. Neither of us wanted to let go of the glass and both of us were determined. As the minutes ticked by, one of us tried getting a straw. It did not work. A bit of jostling spilled a bit of the milk onto the table. After a few minutes, the milk starting dripping onto our clothes and on to the floor.
Much to the bewilderment and amusement of other customers and the workers in the eatery, we were engaged in a lively war of words as well. Initially, the management was passive. Probably, they were flattered too. After all, we were fighting over their badam milk! Nothing could be a better endorsement of their offerings. One of the workers took out his phone to click a couple of pictures. Were we going to make it to one of their advertisements?
We wondered how long it would be before a crowd gathered to watch the fight. Would people start placing bets on how it would turn out? Would NDTV beat the police to get there? Would a whack on our knuckles makes us let go of the glass? Or would we be still holding the glass as we spent a couple of hours or even a night in the cooler? Maybe, we might even get dragged to court! Wouldn’t it be cool if you said to the judge in Will Hunting style, “My Lord, Liberty is the soul’s right to have badam milk”!?
As the minutes ticked by, there was a fine mess on the floor. The manager tried intervening and chided us for dirtying the place. That did not work out. In response, we just kept asking each other to let go. Frustrated, he walked away. As lunch customers got fewer, some of the staff gathered around to watch.
After what seemed like hours, but was actually between thirty to forty five minutes, one of us let go. The manager refused our offer to clean up the place. Probably, he was happy for our endorsement or… whatever!
Letting Go
As we walked to Silk Board from Ladoos, we talked about how difficult or easy letting go is. With respect to our fight, and keeping the other issues such a fairness out (which is also entirely subjective), a spectrum would be from people who would never want a fight in the first place even if they are right to people who wouldn’t mind sinking the entire ship even if they are wrong. And we have people on every point on this spectrum. Something that is trivial to one person is so important to another person that they would give their life for it. Some give up too early and some don’t give up, even to the point of insanity or death. What determines a person’s stand on the spectrum?
Susam told me about Dr. Subhash Mukhopadhyay, a mutual friend’s (who is also my colleague at work) uncle. A pioneer of IVF in India, he took his own life unable to bear the insults and reprimands instead of recognition. As he talked about the film “Ek Doctor Ki Maut” (Death of a Doctor), a film inspired by the life of Dr. Subash, I was also reminded about Maximillian Cohen, the protagonist of the film “Pi“.
Letting go.. For what should we let go? For what shouldn’t we? When should we let go? As usual, the question are easy. Only if the answers were too.
Pakki! Theeni pandaram! Urundai! :p