Why Do I Volunteer?

The most important of life's lessons do not come to you while you are managing P&L's and fretting over project schedules. They often land in your lap when you take the time (or are forced to) to sit back and reflect.

Nice Guy is this American teenager I met during one of our outreach sessions. The weather was biting cold and we were distributing hats, gloves and sweaters. He told me he didn't need any. We started talking to the other kids. He stood in a corner and then came around to ask me if he could take a cap and a pair of gloves for a homeless friend who wasn't around. I have often met kids/ young adults do not trust adults immediately. One of the first lessons homeless kids learn on the street is that admitting you are homeless makes you an easy target for predators. I thought Nice Guy wanted this stuff for himself and he was either shy of asking or lying to us. Nevertheless, I gave him whatever he needed. He told me that he lived with his aunt in Brooklyn for personal reasons. He didn't give me the details and I didn't push. I thought his eyes were misty when he asked me, "Why do you do this?" I didn't know what to say. I had started getting involved with non-profits in the US initially to find something to do with my long empty days. But you don't want to say that. You want to give a grand answer about how you want to change the world. I blabbered something inconsequential.

Suddenly Nice Guy spotted someone. He called over and handed over everything I had given him. I tried to find out more about Nice Guy. He worked at a Pizza outlet. I asked him if he made enough money. I wanted to make sure he wasn't going to go hungry that night. He told me, "I work 12 hours a day and overtime pays very well. I can even buy stuff for my friends sometimes." He had applied to college and had received an admission offer. He was going to do a bachelors degree and major in finance to get a job that, "will lead to great career." (To put things in context he was most likely planning to work through college to pay for his tuition and living expenses). Nice guy didn't want anything from the world except opportunity and he had no complaints. We shook hands and I wished him well before leaving.

When someone asks me next time, "Why do I do this?" I think I know better. I volunteer because it gives me opportunities to meet people like Nice Guy. It motivates me and makes me feel grateful for what I have. For the sake of Nice Guy I also wish and hope that Finance does lead to a great career, in spite of everything that is going on.

Book Update: SuperFreakonomics (Levitt and Dubner) – The book is an easy breezy read with interesting stories. However some parts are oversimplified such as those about climate change solutions. Often correlation is taken causation. It looks like the interest of the authors was in telling memorable stories from uncommon point of view than real research.

It also happens in Delhi

It happened with me yet again. Had taken a day off to make good use of the Christmas weekend to go home. The three days home were great for unwinding and I really did not want to come back. (For those who me know too well, for example my parents, were surprised. I am not those very sentimental and mushy kinds) Never the less, I let home on Christmas night to take the Rajdhani to this city in the heart of India where I work

Now that I am absent minded is almost universal acknowledged. And I had the extra advantage of leaving a little late for the station. I went to station the train was already there at the platform. I frantically searched my name in charts. To my dismay, it was not there . It took me quite some disbelief to figure out that my ticket was not confirmed.

It took me good 15 minutes of talking to the TT to convince me how desperately I needed to be at work the next morning. Seeing no signs of me relenting the poor man gave in. That he too almost missed the train in this whole exercise is another story.

Once in I decided to call back home to tell them that I have left Delhi. I looked into my purse, then in my bag, then in my jeans pocket and then again in my purse. Quite a few rounds of these searches and realized the evening had been more exciting than I initially thought. I had lost my cell phone. Since was talking on the phone while on my way to station it clearly was not left back home.

For those who loose their cell phone for the first time are clearly unprepared for the loss of information it brings. I have since long stopped keeping people's cards or a diary. The 1.5 inches by 4 inches by 1/2 inch gadget stores all my contact numbers, to do lists, information etc. But this to is not the high point of this story.

The high point of the story was to be unfolded the next day morning. I landed in Nagpur and then reached office, to find out that dad had called someone to give a message. An autorickshaw driver had given my cellphone in the nearest police station to be delivered to its owner. In 2004 something similar had happened to me in Mumbai. But ordinarily I or for that matter no one I know would have expected this is Delhi. We just make certain generalizations of things and people around us.

Yet again life taught me not to make any assumptions

PS : If I haven't called you for long, please blame it on this incident. Its high time you give me a call so that I get your number again.