“something through
which I leave my mark, my impression…that’s what I want to do”. Apart from
the emphasis on “want” and “I”, the other phrase that drew my attention was
“leaving my mark”.
Speaking of attention, I had attracted some already. The
clock in the shopping mall read 9AM as the outlook calendar on my mobile flashed
a meeting alert with a potential client.
The mall was yet to yawn off the glittery pretences of last night and get on
with another day. A battalion of thin men with blue shirts and striped black
caps looked at me with a certain degree of disdain. Perhaps my shirt wasn’t
creased enough, or the trouser looked too backdated. Or did I step too early
into the mall where even the first movie show for college-bunking students (with
steadily diminishing pocket money) started only at 10AM. Rushing to the nearest
washroom mirror was the logical next step. Spiritual beliefs may discourage
vanity but business demands a prominent physical presence.
“I need to build something so they remember me” – the potential client went on. The potentiality of the client diminished
with each of his Shah-Jahanesque remarks of building “something” for eternity. Coffee
had been ordered and surprisingly served without a colossal delay by the
half-sleepy staff subjected to an early start to the day. “I need
to leave a footprint…”
Even as I made earnest attempts to take genuine interest in
the conversation, a topic somewhat sensitive had already been broached. Man and
his obsession to leave a footprint, to build identity and to be remembered.
The discussion was yet to reach a crescendo and my mind
could take peeping liberties to transcend away. The astronomical amount of fuel that would have been spent by airline
companies, taxis, and buses transporting me in the past 3 years would perhaps suffice
to burn a sizeable village in Norway or Nagaland – I wondered as I took my
notebook out to scribble. And
that would just be the carbon footprint. Add to it the verbal, mental, biological,
auditory and visual footprint we leave behind throughout our lifespan. Each
time one would drive that 4 seater car to the office all alone, or speak aloud
on the phone, or litter plastic bottles at a tourist view-point, or get into an
argument deceived by the I-consciousness; the footprint would only intensify,
engraving itself deep into the physical world.
The meeting was followed by a day of routine urgencies and
tenacious eventualities. Juggling through the events and driving past the busy
streets, I could recount the numerous observations that several of my acquaintances,
clients, and friends would have made. Why do you speak so softly; why honk only
when it’s absolutely critical; why consume so little food; ….
The curtains to yet another theatrical episode of the earth-day
were to be drawn. To applaud the efforts with other actors, I made it to a
gathering of close friends. Toasts were raised, while loud music and louder
accounts of aspirations, frustrations, passions, and complaints played on. Reflecting
back on the day, I thought about this steady phenomenon which is engulfing a growing generation of mortal beings. Men and women around the world,
moving to tiny 300-500 square foot houses; shrinking their needs, connections, impacts
and their entire worlds*. With each ounce of desire being curbed, their minds
would expand, setting them free of the compulsions and obligations of having to
leave a mark. “The more we shrink, the more liberated we shall be”. I mumbled
as my words faded away into oblivion.
* "We the tiny house people" - Highly recommended documentary
