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The Inspiration...

In our life, we meet people. A lot of them. All types of them. And one wonders, when will a time come, when you will see the last person who would make you feel a particular way and then, you would have had met him and seen him, there would be no one different left to meet. That last person never comes. People are different, more different than any generalization we could ever ‘tag’ them in. Like the finger prints, cloud formations, unicellular Amoeba, they can be anything.

And then, it is but a natural tendency to meet people, and expect a few of them to be good to you. So, in a generalization that is supposed to be avoided, we suddenly categorize, not broadly, but all the people into two basic categories. One group has all those whom you could possibly like, love, talk to, and anything else in the favourable criteria of your judgement. And the other category contains all those from mundane to the very vicious ones you have ever met. Obviously, everyone wants more of the former category.

Some people in the former category inspire you. By various means. In various extents. People have some people to look forward to, mostly. In form of actors, cricketers, fathers, grand fathers, freedom fighters, industrialists - someone is always there who does inspire you, somehow, somewhat. There could be many. There could be only one. They could be living or dead. They can be anyone. Absolutely anyone.

I met such an ‘anyone’ not long time back. She is an amazing lady (though she would prefer me calling her a girl…)

And of all the places, I met her at my work, where, normally, one doesn’t look forward to meet such warm people. She reaches barely over my elbow but my admiration for her is much much taller than many me put together. So what is so great about her? And who is she after all?

She is a person, who isn’t very extraordinary in normal terms. Anyone would only notice her because she is short, otherwise, she could just be lost in the crowd. She is your normal 30 year old, happily married and living a normal life. So, what is so special about her? What makes me go ga-ga about her?

She inspires me because of what she is. The everything so common in her is what is adorable. One of the best programmers in Java I have ever seen (but that is not why I admire her). To me, she writes code as Keats wrote poems and Beethoven created symphonies. She teaches well (but that is again not why I admire her). Hell, if you would believe me, she could teach lions to give up non-veg. She is the one of the liveliest person I have ever seen. The whole BAY 4 (where I sit) lights up, when she reaches all hassled up in the office. A confidence, a spirit that she carries along infuses life in me.

Every single time. I may be sleeping and cribbing over my worthless coding knowledge, she would come and taunt and tease and make fun and lighten up anything. And I mean anything. And you thought programmers were serious guys? She has been into programming for the past 7 years, and she is one of the oldest kids I have ever seen. ( So many first things in one person, considering I myself have been on this planet for more than 23 years now…and obviously, you would have to be the ‘oldest’ kid at 30 years of age).

Her voice would easily compete a 3 year old naughty kid’s. When we laugh, the oldies stop there work and turn around to see what is wrong. When we laugh, we literally mean LAUGH OUT LOUD. And she is the loudest. She is in Delhi, and poof, in Bangalore, on this Hi-Fi new technology in developmental stages, and then back to what we are at, learning J of Java, and then she is sulking over her work and then immediately smiles like a kid and shrug it off, and then on some thing which she lost while coding, and coding it again, and then on my workstation, teaching me knowing that I will ask again the same thing a few days later, and then on her phone which she refuses to change, come what may…and then on chat, and then some gossip , and then code in that gossip, and then all she wants is to go to cafeteria for juice and eventually eating the sinful food, and then what not. Man…does she ever stop? No.

And she is all cheerful and cheerful and makes us smile and carry on, despite everything. And through all that nonchalance and her exuberance and fun and shrieky voice (God, save her husband!) she keeps working, living brightly, and smiling. Does all this fit in the quota for being inspired by someone? I think so.

And when I think, what does one look for inspiration. Not, someone giving mighty speeches (yea..that too at times..but still…), not someone, who is so so so big because his dad left him all the wealth they ever had in family from 1600 A.D. Not even someone whom you fear and thus respect and look up to. My inspiration is someone, who just is normal, and somehow, helped me learn a thing or two about…well, I really don’t know (no, it isn’t coding…I am sure she won’t succeed in teaching me that!). May be, it is that only. INSPIRATION. Something, which comes from someone, when you really don’t have a reason to look up to him or her for inspiration.

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