On my way to work

<p>Its 9:00 in the morning I just got dressed, had<br />
breakfast then sat with my wife and my dear daughter<br />
to a say a word of prayer before we all start off for<br />
our day. Sweet kisses were blown, good byes were said<br />
and I revved up my little car. I had to give<br />
miss-calls to three of my colleagues so that they<br />
would all wait for me at their doorsteps. Winding my<br />
way through d-block, f-block and h-block I pick them<br />
all up and we head towards my office. We have agreed<br />
to a car pool arrangement so we all stick together and<br />
reach back home also together. We are a curious bunch<br />
as I work in .Net (IT jargon – its just a language<br />
like we speak in Hindi / English computers understand<br />
a different language from ours e.g. – Java, .Net, C,<br />
C++, etc.), one of the colleague works in Java,<br />
another one works in VB and then one is from HR.<br />
Leaving Vikas puri we enter Janak puri were we<br />
regularly fuel-up from the b-block petrol pump<br />
sometimes with embarassing incidents like petrol pump<br />
guy asking – sir kya apne kadi company me laga rakhi<br />
hai kya (Sir have you put your vehicle on some kind of<br />
a company duty) and some other times peacefully making<br />
our way to Jail road from the Hari Nagar depot<br />
crossing. Now we settle back for a long and hopefully<br />
a peaceful ride, person sitting in the front left has<br />
to act as the R.J by putting on the music system and<br />
switching to appropriate FM stations so that we get to<br />
hear max songs and less of advertisements. We all have<br />
varied taste in listening to the music while I can<br />
listen to western pop, western classical, Christian,<br />
Hindi music to even news and other special programs on<br />
National channel others are not so flexible they<br />
prefer their standard Hindi music or Punjabi stuff.<br />
Though the ride is smooth for car its really crazy for<br />
the ears as it tries to make sense of the constant <script type="text/javascript"><!–
D(["mb","<br>ntraffic noise, chit chat chatter of the occupants, and<br>nnon stop radio playing FM. Soon we have climbed up the<br>nDelhi cantt fly-over and I am looking down with a<br>nchild like excitement towards my left just to catch a<br>nglimpse of a passing train. I miss the trains so much.<br>nI find traveling in train to be a different world all<br>ntogether. There is never a time when I look at a train<br>nand don't feel overjoyed. I have a collection of<br>nwallpapers of trains of different kinds and colors.<br>nJust looking at one of these huge machines on a<br>nmorning hours brightens my day. Soon we take left from<br>nThimaya park round about (sorry its no more a round<br>nabout but they have made it into a regular four way<br>ncrossing) famous for immoral trafficking under the<br>nwatchful eyes of police trafficking we move on to Brar<br>nsquare. Soon we pass under the swanky flyovers of<br>nDhaula Kuan making our way on the ring road to find<br>nthe ARSD College on our right reminding us of our<br>ncollege days (It specially reminds me of Giriraj my<br>nschool mate who did his B.Sc Physics (H) from here).<br>nAdjacent to ARSD College is the Venkateswara College<br>nthat used to have best rock shows in the south Delhi<br>ncampus during our times. Slightly inside is the Moti<br>nLal Nehru college were I myself studied (this also<br>nreminds me of another friend Cheeru or Sriram who also<br>nstudied from here). On the other side and somewhat<br>nmore interior is the Jesus and Marry College where<br>nHephzibah and her friends studied. By this time we<br>nhave set up a steady pace and are climbing flyovers<br>none by one, Moti bagh flyover, Hyatt flyover,<br>nSafdarjung enclave flyover, AIIMS flyover, South EX<br>nflyover, and finally the Ashram flyover. At this point<br>nwe leave ring road and branch off to the DND - flyway.<br>nIt's a smooth ride on the toll road over the Yamuna<br>nriver with one stoppage were you flash your monthly<br>npass (DND - card) bringing the toll road to an end at<br>nRajnigandha chok on the Noida side. From here on the",1]
);

//–></script><br />
traffic noise, chit chat chatter of the occupants, and<br />
non stop radio playing FM. Soon we have climbed up the<br />
Delhi cantt fly-over and I am looking down with a<br />
child like excitement towards my left just to catch a<br />
glimpse of a passing train. I miss the trains so much.<br />
I find traveling in train to be a different world all<br />
together. There is never a time when I look at a train<br />
and don&rsquo;t feel overjoyed. I have a collection of<br />
wallpapers of trains of different kinds and colors.<br />
Just looking at one of these huge machines on a<br />
morning hours brightens my day. Soon we take left from<br />
Thimaya park round about (sorry its no more a round<br />
about but they have made it into a regular four way<br />
crossing) famous for immoral trafficking under the<br />
watchful eyes of police trafficking we move on to Brar<br />
square. Soon we pass under the swanky flyovers of<br />
Dhaula Kuan making our way on the ring road to find<br />
the ARSD College on our right reminding us of our<br />
college days (It specially reminds me of Giriraj my<br />
school mate who did his B.Sc Physics (H) from here).<br />
Adjacent to ARSD College is the Venkateswara College<br />
that used to have best rock shows in the south Delhi<br />
campus during our times. Slightly inside is the Moti<br />
Lal Nehru college were I myself studied (this also<br />
reminds me of another friend Cheeru or Sriram who also<br />
studied from here). On the other side and somewhat<br />
more interior is the Jesus and Marry College where<br />
Hephzibah and her friends studied. By this time we<br />
have set up a steady pace and are climbing flyovers<br />
one by one, Moti bagh flyover, Hyatt flyover,<br />
Safdarjung enclave flyover, AIIMS flyover, South EX<br />
flyover, and finally the Ashram flyover. At this point<br />
we leave ring road and branch off to the DND – flyway.<br />
It&rsquo;s a smooth ride on the toll road over the Yamuna<br />
river with one stoppage were you flash your monthly<br />
pass (DND – card) bringing the toll road to an end at<br />
Rajnigandha chok on the Noida side. From here on the <script type="text/javascript"><!–
D(["mb","<br>nentire stretch to office is punctuated by a series of<br>ntraffic lights at regular intervals. At each of these<br>ntraffic lights you will find lots of self made<br>nmarketing guys from rags trying to sell car dusters,<br>ndusting cloth, tissue paper boxes, funny looking toys,<br>nrose flowers, balloons, Indian flags, and yes the<br>nlatest from the literary world (Dan Browns, Jeffery<br>nArcher, Paul Cohelo, etc.). Aah how can I miss the<br>nmost omnipresent community (babu paise dede re,<br>nbhagwan bhala karega, tumara joda banayega, abe driver<br>nse kya mangta hai memsab se mangna, etc. etc.) of our<br>ncountry, yes I mean the beggars. No matter what the<br>ntime or what the place they seem to be waiting for you<br>neverywhere. Some would be carrying a small baby with<br>nthem while others would start cleaning your car with<br>nthose horrible clothes they have. Most of the people<br>nignore them while some are more charitable. I seem to<br>ndwindle between the two, never sure when to be<br>ncharitable and when to be rude. Every time one of them<br>ncomes up to my car I dread to face them. If I were to<br>ngive two rupees to each one who came-up to my window I<br>nwould have shelled out approximately one hundred<br>nrupees (10 signals, approx 5 beggars per signal - 10 x<br>n5 x 2) by the time I reached my office. That would be<br>na total of two hundred a day, (23 x 200) 4600 rupees<br>nin a month. But then I remember what Jesus said -<br>n"(Mat 5:42) To him that asks of thee give, and from<br>nhim that desires to borrow of thee turn not away" and<br>nI am torn at my heart for the spirit is willing but<br>nthe body is not, the heart is willing but the mind is<br>nnot. I know there are many that would say that giving<br>narms to beggars only makes there plight worst, or it<br>nactually encourages begging, or that they actually<br>ncommit atrocities on little children so as to invoke<br>npity in our sight or its just not practical to give<br>narms to every beggar you find. I know only one thing<br>",1]
);

//–></script><br />
entire stretch to office is punctuated by a series of<br />
traffic lights at regular intervals. At each of these<br />
traffic lights you will find lots of self made<br />
marketing guys from rags trying to sell car dusters,<br />
dusting cloth, tissue paper boxes, funny looking toys,<br />
rose flowers, balloons, Indian flags, and yes the<br />
latest from the literary world (Dan Browns, Jeffery<br />
Archer, Paul Cohelo, etc.). Aah how can I miss the<br />
most omnipresent community (babu paise dede re,<br />
bhagwan bhala karega, tumara joda banayega, abe driver<br />
se kya mangta hai memsab se mangna, etc. etc.) of our<br />
country, yes I mean the beggars. No matter what the<br />
time or what the place they seem to be waiting for you<br />
everywhere. Some would be carrying a small baby with<br />
them while others would start cleaning your car with<br />
those horrible clothes they have. Most of the people<br />
ignore them while some are more charitable. I seem to<br />
dwindle between the two, never sure when to be<br />
charitable and when to be rude. Every time one of them<br />
comes up to my car I dread to face them. If I were to<br />
give two rupees to each one who came-up to my window I<br />
would have shelled out approximately one hundred<br />
rupees (10 signals, approx 5 beggars per signal – 10 x<br />
5 x 2) by the time I reached my office. That would be<br />
a total of two hundred a day, (23 x 200) 4600 rupees<br />
in a month. But then I remember what Jesus said -<br />
&quot;(Mat 5:42) To him that asks of thee give, and from<br />
him that desires to borrow of thee turn not away&quot; and<br />
I am torn at my heart for the spirit is willing but<br />
the body is not, the heart is willing but the mind is<br />
not. I know there are many that would say that giving<br />
arms to beggars only makes there plight worst, or it<br />
actually encourages begging, or that they actually<br />
commit atrocities on little children so as to invoke<br />
pity in our sight or its just not practical to give<br />
arms to every beggar you find. I know only one thing<br />
<script type="text/javascript"><!–
D(["mb","nthat they are poor and I am supposed to face them and<br>nextend my hands to help them because I can afford it.<br>nSome even say that they are actually richer than us<br>nand are actually into business of begging so that they<br>ndon't have to work. Then I ask to myself does it<br>nmatter weather they are well off or poor, if they are<br>ncheating on me or not. Who am I to judge them, for the<br>njudgment is the Lord's? They will answer for their<br>nactions one day to their Creator meanwhile I have been<br>nasked to help them who are needy and poor. With dread<br>nand confusion I make it through last of the traffic<br>nsignal and reach my office parking. Its 10:30 am I<br>npress my finger against the finger print scanner for<br>nmy attendance and another day at work as just begun.<br>n<br>nAbhy<br>n<br>n__________________________________________________<br>nDo You Yahoo!?<br>nTired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around <br>n<a hrefu003d"http://mail.yahoo.com" targetu003d"_blank" onclicku003d"return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">http://mail.yahoo.com</a> <br>n</p>n </div> nn n <span widthu003d"1" styleu003d"color:white">__._,_.___</span>n n <div>n <span>n <a hrefu003d"http://us.lrd.yahoo.com/_ylcu003dX3oDMTM2ZHVvY2R0BF9TAzk3MzU5NzE0BGdycElkAzI1ODg0NzMEZ3Jwc3BJZAMxNjAwMDE2MDYxBG1zZ0lkAzEwMDg2BHNlYwNmdHIEc2xrA3Z0cGMEc3RpbWUDMTE0OTg0NzQ5MAR0cGNJZAMxMDA3Ng--;_ylgu003d1/SIGu003d1258sc6gd/**http%3a//groups.yahoo.com/group/indianchristianyouth/message/10076" targetu003d"_blank" onclicku003d"return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">n Messages in this topic </a> (<span>5</span>)n </span>n <a hrefu003d"http://us.lrd.yahoo.com/_ylcu003dX3oDMTJxOW1lZHVoBF9TAzk3MzU5NzE0BGdycElkAzI1ODg0NzMEZ3Jwc3BJZAMxNjAwMDE2MDYxBG1zZ0lkAzEwMDg2BHNlYwNmdHIEc2xrA3JwbHkEc3RpbWUDMTE0OTg0NzQ5MA--;_ylgu003d1/SIGu003d12r4uhbbp/**http%3a//groups.yahoo.com/group/indianchristianyouth/post%3factu003dreply%26messageNumu003d10086" targetu003d"_blank" onclicku003d"return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)">n <span>n Reply ",1]
);

//–></script>that they are poor and I am supposed to face them and<br />
extend my hands to help them because I can afford it.<br />
Some even say that they are actually richer than us<br />
and are actually into business of begging so that they<br />
don&rsquo;t have to work. Then I ask to myself does it<br />
matter weather they are well off or poor, if they are<br />
cheating on me or not. Who am I to judge them, for the<br />
judgment is the Lord&rsquo;s? They will answer for their<br />
actions one day to their Creator meanwhile I have been<br />
asked to help them who are needy and poor. With dread<br />
and confusion I make it through last of the traffic<br />
signal and reach my office parking. Its 10:30 am I<br />
press my finger against the finger print scanner for<br />
my attendance and another day at work as just begun</p>