Three years after getting married, I moved out from my parent's home to make space for the families of my younger brothers. We decided to move to a small flat at Salunke Vihar on the outskirts of Pune. Salunke Vihar was a relatively large township built for providing accommodation for members of the Indian Armed Forces at relatively low rates. The only problem was access to the city. Auto rickshaws rarely plied to that side and the bus service was pathetic and almost non-existent. The nearest main road was 3 km away, and therefore people often had to depend on the kindness of residents with vehicles.

I was amongst the few people who owned a car in the society. Keeping with the spirit of the situation, every time we travelled the dirt road, we would offer a ride to fellow residents and even visitors. Often people thanked us for the ride, sometimes they would not even acknowledge the assistance. This lack of appreciation and courtesy perturbed me.

It was about noon time on a hot May day where the summer peaks. I was driving out on an errand and running a bit late. Round the corner, I saw standing next to the road an old man. His back slightly stooped with age and a small bag by his side. He wore a colourful bush shirt and had a big straw hat on his head. Sweating profusely the old man was mopping his forehead and face, yet he had a pleasant. I debated for a second I felt compelled to offer him a ride.'

The old man slowly shuffled up into my car. He was taking so damn long. He was sharp and sensed my irritation. But he dissolved my frustration by apologising and thanking me. Blessing me and thanking me, he went on and on. I interrupted him and told him, "It wasn't a big deal and not an inconvenience at all." I added that at least he was appreciative of my kind gesture unlike so many people who remained ungrateful. He said I understand what you mean & May I ask you a question?" Of course, said I. "No problem. Please ask."

"Why did you give me a ride?" He asked. " Did you see a man on the road and think that let me give him a ride and then he will feel obligated to me, or did your heart speak with your conscience and asked you to do a good deed." I told him that I felt sorry for him and thought it would be nice to assist him. He responded, "Does that not mean, you were only following your heart’s desire and did the good deed? So logically speaking, it should make no difference to you whether I thank you or not?" He repeated the same again.

I was stunned by the realization of what this kindly old man just said. He continued, "The poor of the world are not only those who do not have shelter or enough food, but also those who cannot implement what their heart desires. My son you are blessed and truly rich for you are able to follow your heart’s desire." We reached the main road in the few minutes. I was captivated and hungry to learn more. I wanted to hang on to this awesome man, but he insisted that I drop him there at the bus stop.

I contemplated what had just transpired. I felt foolish about my puny ego. In a matter of five minutes this seemingly insignificant yet great man had awoken me and transformed my life. I learnt that unhappiness stems from unfilled expectations. If I had no expectations for the good that I did to others, I would give more, and yet be happier. Was it not my good fortune that God has given me opportunity to be compassionate, and the means to fulfil same? I learnt that the the joy is in the doing and not in the expectation of the fruit. I would do what I had to and let God do what He has to.