A pack of cards

A friend gave me a packof cards- 52 cards and a joker- but not exactly a normal set of cards. Instead of the four suits, there were four sets of “giving ideas”- to the world, to strangers, to people you know and to yourself. Each card has one giving idea- donate your favourite set of clothes, use a recyclable bag for a week, appreciate the work of someone who passes unnoticed…
You can pull out a card a day, or a card a week, or any other rule you choose to set for yourself.
And, you pass it forward.
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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Perhaps there was a Father Christmas after all!

I will be honest, thought she kept reminding me, I had forgotten all about Danette's Christmas Story Blogfest. At the time I signed up, I was intending to re-post a rather morbid short story set over the Christmas holiday that I had written several years back. But when it came to actually doing so, I decided to go with a brand new drabble instead.

This is a work of fiction, which I hope reminds you of the true meaning of Christmas.
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She looked hungrily at the brightly lit stores. Savoured the aroma of the Christmas decorations. The foot-tapping music was making her ravenous. She wanted to feast on the Christmas spirit.

At seven, she already knew that festivals were only for those who could afford to celebrate. But maybe she could persuade her mother to braid her hair in that special way?

A car stopped and asked for directions. The driver thrust something into her hands before driving away.

A whole bar of chocolate!!! Perhaps there was a Father Christmas after all!

She ran off to share it with her friend.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

"Thank You!"

[Just a couple of days back, I was mourning about how people seem to have forgotten all about something called courtesy. But just when you start thinking that, someone else reminds you of the power of two simple words- Thank You!.]

I was walking towards him when one of his bags split and medicine bottles spilled out. He seemed unaware of it, so without breaking my stride, I told him his stuff had fallen. He bent down to pick them up, I walked on. One of his bottles had rolled ahead, son I picked it up and gave it to him.
"Thank you", he said, looking me in the eye. He held contact much longer than it took him to utter those two words.

The whole encounter took less than a minute. But the warm glow remained with me for hours.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Is Courtesy Dead, or Extinct?

ay
I was waiting for a cab, when a middle aged lady descended with her mother-in-law and two grown children. In the commotion of acting extremely harried, she didn't even notice that she had dropped her sunglasses. I picked the glasses up and handed them to her. "Thanks", her mumble was barely audible.Five minutes later, a cab drew up. Even before I could move, she opened the door and got in.

I wasn't in a hurry, so didn't create a scene. But, I wonder if she even realised what she had done. Would a gesture of courtesy have killed her?

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Pay it forward - Jasmine Stands

[This is a work of fiction.]

My father never let me miss not having a mother. Everything a girl would want, I got. Except, perhaps, one thing. He never thought to get me flowers for my hair. Every Friday, my friend had jasmine flowers, and I did not. Her mother noticed- "Would you like some too?", she asked. "Papa wouldn't like it", I replied. She must have spoken to my father- that Friday and every Friday after that, he got me jasmine strands for my hair.

I still wear jasmine on Friday. I buy three strands- one for me, two for girls who cannot have them.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

A Random Act of Kindness always sets off a chain, which may or may not circle back to you, but which makes the world a better place to be in. See it play out in our Pay it Forward feature, exclusively at the Burrow.

Pay it Forward - Saree Shopping

"This saree is so beautiful", said the mother, after discretely checking the price-tag.

"But I only like that one", insisted the daughter.
"That wouldn't suit you", said the mother.
"You are only saying that because it is more expensive", argued the girl.
"That too", admitted the mother. "If I buy that, there would be no money left for accessories."

Privately, I agreed with the mother- the colour would not flatter the daughter. But I also knew the girl would only look good in a saree she loved.

"Come back tomorrow", I suggested. "Some of these sarees will be on sale."

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

A Random Act of Kindness always sets off a chain, which may or may not circle back to you, but which makes the world a better place to be in. See it play out in our Pay it Forward feature, exclusively at the Burrow.

Pay it forward - the Flag

[As the newly free nation watched, the Union Jack was symbolically lowered, and the Indian Tricolour hoisted at the historical Red Fort. This is to celebrates sixty-three years of Freedom for India and Indians.]

I was a reedy, bespectacled boy; the kind bullies always picked on. From the edge of the crowd to which I had been shoved, I watched in wonder as the dignitary prepared to hoist the flag. What a great man he must be to be accorded such honour. Rope in hand, he paused and took in the crowd. He beckoned me to assist him. Knees trembling, I did.

Thirty-seven years later, I am at the flag-pole. My eyes scan the crowd, and alight on a boy who could have been me. "Will you help me hoist the flag?", I ask.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words. This is a work of fiction.

A Random Act of Kindness always sets off a chain, which may or may not circle back to you, but which makes the world a better place to be in. See it play out in our Pay it Forward feature, exclusively at the Burrow.

Pay it forward - Bunch of Flowers

[This is a work of fiction.]

"Gerbera, sir? Only forty rupees." The boy thrust a bunch of flowers against my car-window at a traffic light.

I dismissed him with a shake of my head.

"Please, sir. Very nice gerberas." The kid persisted.

I looked at him. He couldn't be more than ten. At his age, I didn't know what money was. And he was earning his living. I reached for my wallet.

I didn't want the flowers. Perhaps I could give them to my octogenarian neighbour?

Her face lit up. "I can't believe you remembered my birthday."

The cake was delicious, the evening even more so.

_____

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

A Random Act of Kindness always sets off a chain, which may or may not circle back to you, but which makes the world a better place to be in. See it play out in our Pay it Forward feature, exclusively at the Burrow.

Pay It Forward - Lemon Tart

It was one of those days when nothing went right. I felt murderous, weepy, angry. The only thing that sustained me was multi-sensory experience of digging into a lemon tart at Café Steinbeck.

I reached for the last lemon tart a moment before she did. I could see the disappointment in her eyes. She looked even more haggard than I felt- the burp mark on her left shoulder told its story. I picked up the tart, and put in on her tray. She was speechless, I could see the gratitude in her eyes.
“Pay it forward”, I said. And smiled.


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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

A Random Act of Kindness always sets off a chain, which may or may not circle back to you, but which makes the world a better place to be in. See it play out in our Pay it Forward feature, exclusively at the Burrow.

Image credit - Kimberly Vardeman

Pay it Forward

Among the many ‘regulars’ in my apartment block is this bunch of elderly ladies who get together and chat for a couple of hours. Most of them sit down on the low concrete platforms built for the purpose, but one always has the security guard bring her a plastic chair. We know the ladies are there, but they are so much a part of the landscape nobody really pays much heed to them.

Yesterday, the lady who sits on the chair arrived a little early. Her friends hadn’t come yet, and she was standing near the platform waiting for them to arrive.

A six year old was loitering nearby, waiting for his friend to come. He saw the lady standing, brought the chair out, and asked her to sit. She patted him on the cheek and said thank you. He blushed, and ran away.

I did not witness it, but when I heard about it, my heart swelled with pride. The six-year was my son, and his instinctive act of kindness gave me more pleasure than I may have got if he topped in class.

Call it ‘Random Acts of Kindness”, as I do, or “Pay it Forward” as B. Miller does, but I do believe in the power of doing something selfless for someone you have absolutely no expectations from. It invariably creates a ripple effect- whether you ask the person to ‘pay it forward’ or not, he person you have been nice to is invariably nice to someone else, and that person is good to someone else in turn. The circle may or may not close back on you, but it does increase the total amount of happiness floating around.

B. Miller is also running a Pay it Forward giveaway – further details here.

N for Networking

I was at work the other day when my phone rang. I recognised the number immediately- it was the mother of one of the girls in my younger one's class. The holidays had just started, so it was unlikely she was calling to pass on a message. Maybe she wanted to set up a play date or something. I wanted to ignore the call, but if I did, I would only have to call back later. I groaned inwardly, and took the call. Luckily, she got to the point almost immediately.
"You work for a NGO, don't you?", she asked. "I wonder if you know any organisation that helps cancer patients who cannot afford treatment. You see, my brother-in-law's driver has cancer, and they just cannot afford treatment. I was wondering if there was anyone who could help."
I started telling her that I work for a non-profit that works with children, and we have absolutely nothing in common with organisations in the health sector, but by the time the words formed, what came out was something like, "You could try Cancer Patients Association. They are based in Worli and I know they subsidise treatments for people who cannot afford it. And there is this other lady who is a cancer survivor herself. Her organisation mainly does counselling, but on a case to case basis, they try to raise money for deserving people. And of course, you could always try..."
Ten minutes later, the lady had details of five organisations that she could approach, including one where I knew the founder personally, even though we had been out of touch for nearly six years. She was thrilled to get so many leads, and I was equally happy that I had been able to help someone.

And that got me thinking about Networking. Now there are some people who are born networkers, but I never considered myself one of them. An only child, I was always quite self contained and did not have any great need for personal friendships. I was friendly with people, but never went out of my way to keep in touch. To be perfectly honest, I almost considered "Networking" a bad word. Networking was something people who did not have much to recommend themselves did to advance themselves. In fact, there were times in my life when I actually went out of my way to avoid contact with people who had passed out of my life.

And then I discovered LinkedIn, and Facebook. I discovered people I had even forgotten I knew, and I found that I liked interacting with them outside real time. Without quite realising it, I found myself storing random bits of information in my brain, and pretty soon found myself making connections. The school mate who was looking for an editor, the friend who did freelance editing. The colleague looking to change jobs, a batch-mate who wanted to recruit someone with a similar profile. An NGO desperate for donations, a funder looking for an organisation similar to that. I found myself networking all the time, and I found that I enjoyed it.

All my life, I had known two things about my brain - that it had the capacity to store an almost infinite amount of trivial information, and that my neural pathways were wired in a way that made seemingly random connections between disconnected pieces of information to come up with something almost intuitive. Looked at dispassionately, my brain was hard wired for Networking.

Networking, I now realise, is anything but a dirty word. Networking has the capacity to connect two needs, and come up with a synergistic relationship. Networking creates a cat's cradle out of a tangled mass of wool. And when it is used to do good, there is nothing more fulfilling than that.