Glancing back at the days of my transition from a kindergarten kid to a student of primary school, when most of the kids of my age (that time) were busy exploring an all together newer world, learning to put on uniform ties, sharing their lunchboxes with an only innocent yet greedy intent of getting a slice of cheese sandwich in return, trying incessantly to tie shoe laces during morning assemblies, eagerly waiting for sports period after five hopelessly long subject periods and then desperately running to the school buses to get the window seat while returning home, I was sitting quietly in a nutshell, day dreaming about how one day I would walk up to the stage in morning assembly and recite the beautiful poem by Ruskin Bond called
Lone Fox Dancing...
As I walked home last night
I saw a lone fox dancing
In the cold moonlight.
I stood and watched. Then
Took the low road, knowing
The night was his by right.
Sometimes, when words ring true,
I’m like a lone fox dancing
In the morning dew.
My performance would have been a perfectly applauded one, only if I didn't suffer from the predicament of stammering. I would have been the perfect student, one who is exam topper, would dance nonchalantly in annual day functions, carry a disciplined conduct with all home assignments completed in good handwriting. But in my belief, which I started believing into much later, it is the perfectly perfect thing which loses its uniqueness, its personal essence and becomes more plastic. It is for the imperfections of things and people, that makes them unique and naturally perfect. So i feel, it was the stammering that had put me in a nutshell, which in turn instigated the creative instinct of a painter. Eventually, though I failed miserably to represent my clan, my class, my house, my school with my oratory skills in the most flamboyant elocution competitions, I paved my way towards the world of creativity by the means of painting and received several accolades and platforms to represent my school in national level painting competitions. Roughly around that same time, it was the advent of telecom industry and increased accessibility to a disruptive technology called mobile phones. But it was the advertising campaign of social inclusiveness and equality for all by !dea which caught my attention, inspired me to become an influencer who could make even the slightest difference by contributing to people's lives and meanwhile, another flashback struck me.
It was the winter mela of Gwalior in 2002, I, holding my grandma's hand, was strolling around the car parking area. Suddenly, I heard a baby crying to the top of her voice. Following the cry, I reached near a pillar and found the tiniest human baby I've ever seen till date lying in the one -legged lap of a worn out middle aged man. I asked my grandma if my cotton candy could make that baby stop crying... Alas, she replied with a disheartening no. I again nagged my grandma to ask why was their condition so miserable and why don't they go home?! She replied "neither they have a home to go back, nor they have money because, unlike Papa, that man cannot earn as he had only one leg to walk". This incident was my first ever encounter with that unpleasant face of the society, which I had never been able to see in initial four years of my life. This was the first time I felt sad, pity and sympathetic for the under privileged section of the society. I experienced the helplessness of not being able to help the helpless.
On my way to become a social influencer, inspired by !dea's socially dedicated marketing campaign, I pursued to serve for the welfare of the society by being part of Spandan (an NGO at my undergrad college) and National Service Scheme. In the long run, i even wish to continue in the same domain and become a social entrepreneur.