Committing to kindness chased my blues away and made me feel more resilient and optimistic, even on those days when the news is unbearable I remind myself that the best response is to do something kind for someone at the earliest opportunity. It's a kind of magic, in that it cheers you up and empowers you.
The man who accepted that bit of money in the post office back in 2011 did me such a favour by starting me off on a journey, which has transformed my outlook and my life.
He probably has no idea what a positive effect he had on me by accepting that 50p, which goes to show that the smallest interaction between people can create huge repercussions.
Every single thing you do and say and write and post has the potential to change someone's life, which is both a responsibility and an amazing, exciting opportunity.
I sincerely believe that this is how we can change the world for the better, by committing to small acts of kindness and compassion in every aspect of our lives and wherever possible, and I learnt this from a stranger in a post office in Deptford who I never got the chance to thank.
In the indeterminate period which begins with the end of formal education and lies between the usual culmination of marriage, I found that I had nothing to do.
I had just received my Bachelors degree in English literature and thought vaguely about becoming a journalist or studying further. My life so far had been comfortable, sheltered beneath the protective shade of my parent's love and I had little knowledge of the world outside.
My parents had started the hunt for the suitable groom. Amidst the flurry of scanning newspaper advertisements and exchanging horoscopes, they advised me to do nothing.
There was no point starting a course or a career at this point, they reasoned. If a good match came along, I will have to stop whatever I was doing and move to where my husband would be. I was not ambitious.
I wanted a continuation of the comfortable life and was prepared to be moderately satisfied with whatever fate had in store for me.
I knew what lay ahead for me- no great passion but no terrible sorrow either. This thought gave me a warm secure feeling and I looked forward to my future with a detached interest.
After a few weeks, I was becoming bored with the daily mundane routine of doing nothing but waiting. When a new bookshop opened in the shopping complex near our house, I was immediately excited.
I liked being among books, I enjoyed the smell of fresh print and the feel of crisp pages. I looked forward to the stories that lived through the words and sentences crafted by great authors and for the few hours that I read, I too lived in those stories. The shop was called 'Books and Bits'; the 'Bits' comprised a small collection of greeting cards, magazines and assorted gift items to tempt non readers into the shop.
There was a notice that said "Help Wanted" stuck outside the shop. I still don't know why I did it. I had no intention of working there and being a shop assistant was not a part of my future.
Somehow, I found myself talking to the old woman who was at the counter about the help she wanted. Mrs. Nair was the owner of the shop. She was a small birdlike creature with sparse white hair and dark brown eyes. She wore a white sari with small blue flowers and had an air of quiet sorrow about her.
We started talking and she explained that the shop was belonged to her husband who was passionate about books. The older books were from his personal collection. He had set up the shop a few years ago after retiring from service with his savings and had managed it till he succumbed to a fatal stroke a few months ago.
She had shifted the shop to this complex since it was closer to their house. I could sense that she had no idea of how to run a shop and struggled to keep her husband's dream alive.
"I can help," I said quickly. "I like to read and I have nothing much to do now." She could not pay me much. The shop was making a loss and she didn't know how long she could manage it. I was not worried about the money. I thought that this was a good way to keep myself occupied. My parents thought that this was a passing fancy and were too busy to wonder what kind of work I was doing. I said that I was helping at the library.
I enjoyed myself. Mrs. Nair taught me how to operate the computer at the counter and I tried my own system of arranging the books under different sections. Usually, I sat at the counter and read one of the books. Ms. Nair gratefully handed over the shop to me and made only one visit during the day. Occasionally, customers would saunter in. Some would ask me for the latest best seller and I would point it out to them. I was waiting to recommend my own favorites but no one asked for my advice.
Then one day, the person who would change my life forever walked in.
The first thing I noticed about her was her eyes. They were bright, sparkling, ridged with kohl and full of life. She wore heavy silver earrings and a matching silver chain. An orange kurta shimmered over a pair of loose purple trousers and silver bangles jangled at her wrist as she pushed back strands of dark red hair from her face.
She was older than me but had an air of childlike wonder as she looked around the shop.
"Do you have any books on poetry?" she asked. Her voice was deep, husky yet musical and resonant.
"What kind of poetry?" I asked, eager to offer my advice.
"I have no idea", she laughed. "But Ashok loves poetry so I thought I would buy him a book of poems for his birthday."
I wondered who Ashok was.
"Does he like modern poems or classical ones?"
"She was a phantom of delight, when she first gleamed upon my sight…" she murmured softly.
"That's what he quoted to me when we first met. I still remember it." she smiled to herself. I did not know people who quoted poetry to each other, certainly not married couples. I could not imagine anyone saying that to me ever. I stared at her for a minute and then hurried towards the books. I picked out an anthology of Indian poetry translated into English and handed it to her. She flipped through the pages and read out a few lines; "I have been disturbed by your straight sweetness from the ankle bone to the flower of your body…"
"I'll take it," she said. The shop looked dull after she had left. A scent of unknown flowers lingered in the air. I found myself thinking about her, about Ashok's reaction when she gave him the book, about her life. I didn't think I would ever see her again but she walked in to the shop, a week later. This time, she was dressed in yellow and glowed like a garden of sun flowers.
She came up to me and said, "I want to thank you for your selection. Ashok really loved the book. He was very appreciative." Her face lit up like a million watt bulb and she winked at me. I was not used to people winking. I had only a vague idea about what she meant and I felt my face flush.
"I am glad," I muttered.
"Do you have any books on Coorg?" she asked moving in to the shop. "Ashok and I are thinking of going there soon. The weather is so good, that we may even take his bike and go on the road."
As we stood looking through the books, she looked up at me. "Do you like traveling?"
"Yes," I found myself saying. "I have always wanted to travel but I haven't been …"
I had lived in the same city all my life and had never been beyond a few hundred miles from our state.
"Why don't you?"
"Er..I just.."
"I always tell Ashok, You only have one life. You should do as much as you can with it."
I didn't say anything.
She laughed. "Ashok says I live as though I had only one day!"
I didn't know how I lived. What she said made me wonder. I felt an uneasy, restless feeling creep over me. We couldn't find a book on Coorg but she bought one on Reiki. "I always wanted to know something about Reiki," she said.
"I am starting these classes next week." I wondered how she managed to do so much.
I kept myself busy in the shop. I convinced Mrs. Nair to buy some books for children. I had seen several mothers come in asking for children's books. We had a small alcove in the back of the shop which I converted into the children's section. We had the walls painted in bright colors and hung a pictures of Winnie the Pooh and Micky Mouse there. I put a notice saying, "New Children's books." More people started coming in to the shop. I put up a display of our best sellers at the entrance of the shop and hired a small boy to dust and clean the books daily.
I was hardly at home and finally my parents started complaining. They had short listed three prospects for the first round. I saw the photos. The men looked unfamiliar, strange. I couldn't imagine any of them quoting poetry to me. One of them, a bespectacled man in a blue shirt, was coming to see me next week. I had expected to be excited, anxious or at least eager but I felt nothing. I was thinking about the inventory of old books we had and wondered what to do with them.
I was busy arranging a book shelf at the shop and did not even notice her enter. "The shop is looking good." I heard her say. She was finishing off an ice cream cone and licked off a smear of chocolate from her lips. I asked about her trip to Coorg.
"Wonderful" she said. "The coffee plantations there are marvelous."
"Is there any book you are looking for today? I asked. There was no one else in the shop and I was glad to have a chance to talk to her.
For a few seconds a shadow passed across her face and I saw her hesitate.
"Do you have anything which tells you about the future? How your life is going to turn out five years from now?" she laughed but I could sense a disquiet beneath the smile.
"No- we don't have any astrology books unless you want to look at Linda Goodman's Sunsigns.."
"No, the signs are there, its just that I don't know .."
I was surprised. She seemed like a person who was in control of her life, a life with a loving husband, the promise of children and lifetime of adventure ahead. I had thought about her often and wondered if my life would ever be like that. I recognized a sharp feeling in my gut which I hesitated to acknowledge as envy.
Sometimes, it's much easier to talk to a stranger, someone who knows nothing about you and the patterns that make up your life.
When she asked me if was married, I found myself telling her about my life; about the software engineer in the blue shirt who was coming to see me the next day and the banker who would come the following week.