Getting to know those you’ll never meet

Delhi, India

I’ve written previously about the pleasure of a local newspaper set next to a cup of coffee. In this post I want to zero in on one of the benefits of this arrangement. Here it is: In addition to a hopefully pleasant aroma rising from your cup, inside your paper are stories about individuals you’re not likely to meet but can, albeit in a small way, still get to know.

Take, for example, how the The Indian Express introduced me to Rajiv Gandhi. It was August 2004, and the former Prime Minister of India had been dead for 13 years. But the day I picked up the paper happened to fall on what would have been Rajiv Gandhi’s 60th birthday. Several pages were devoted to tributes and articles celebrating his life and legacy.

I learned things about India while sitting beside the Ganges in Varanasi (Banaras), strolling through the incredible symmetry of the Taj Mahal, and while hanging out with two guys who befriended me at Pizza Hut. But I also learned about India through the paper. I learned that when Rajiv Gandhi visited his old school after he became Prime Minister, a 12-year-old boy told him that the school was “going to the dogs, because they were now issuing yellow cards for not finishing their jam.” With a sense of humor, Gandhi replied that he would take the matter up with his cabinet.

I read the tributes and looked through photos of his life. One article shared an excerpt from a letter to his wife Sonia: “…Those things that I find truly important I do remember, but other things are just thrown out of my mind almost immediately. Just like I don’t like clutter in a room, I don’t like having it in my mind and what I feel I don’t need, I throw out.”

When later that morning I set out to wander through Delhi, I set out not only caffeinated by also a bit more knowledgeable of the people and  place around me. Sidestepping a sea of auto rickshaws and cows, I was happy to be right where I was in the present. And part of my happiness, I think, was because I had just caught a glimpse of the past.