Guest column: A serendipitous lesson in contentment

We keep hankering after more and more riches and acquisitions and yet remain disgruntled but here was a man who had absolutely nothing, no possessions to his name but for a rickety cycle and yet he was content

I had always been moved by the plight of a shabbily clad limping man who worked as a maali (gardener) in our neighbourhood. Though not a trained gardener, he could be seen wielding his khurpi (trowel), working in lawns and tending to flower beds in the locality.

Closeup shot of a group of unrecognizable people holding plants growing out of soil (Getty Images/Representative Photo)

However, after lockdown was imposed, I did not see him for months together. It was only recently, when I was walking down to a nearby park, that I saw him working in a neighbour’s lawn. I stopped to catch-up and learnt that the poor fellow had lost his livelihood during the Covid-induced lockdown and had to return to his village.

The pandemic and the subsequent lockdown has been a big blow to everyone, but workers in the informal sector have been among the worst-affected. The restrictions have somewhat relaxed but the pandemic seems to be here to stay and the ordeal of part-time workers continues as they have not been able to regain all their work.

With honest curiosity and an intention to help the poor man, I asked him if his earnings were enough to meet his expenses. His composure surprised me as he raised five fingers to suggest he was able to make ₹5,000. He looked content, but I felt distressed. I wondered how he was managing with his meagre earnings.

His answer left me stumped. With a glee apparent on his face, he shared his secret: three food packets comprising chapattis, pickle and a seasonal vegetable — his breakfast, lunch and dinner for ₹10 per meal, courtesy the Chandigarh administration with support of the Red Cross Society.

‘Content is a feast without end’

I could not help be amazed at how satisfied he was.

The satisfaction I saw on the face of a man getting just two (nay three) squares a meal, reminded me of a proverb from Judaism: all the days of poor person are wretched but contentment is a feast without end. I realised that a simple meal was no less than a treat for the poor fellow.

Introspecting, I came to a rude realisation that we keep hankering after more and more riches and acquisitions and yet remain disgruntled and here was a man who had absolutely nothing, no possessions to his name but for a rickety cycle, and yet he was content. Without a trace of envy, jealousy, ambition or greed, he was facing the hardships of life head-on.

‘Discontent makes rich men poor’

Ironically, I had stopped to extend help to the poor man, not knowing that I would be the one receiving a lesson in contentment from him. The serenity on his face, despite physical and economic challenges, was enough to remind me of the virtues of ‘santosh dhan’ —contentment is wealth, an asset in itself.

Benjamin Franklin rightly says, “Content makes poor men rich; discontent makes rich men poor.”

The writer is a retired associate professor at MCMDAV College, Chandigarh