Curiosity Bites History

Utsuk Kumar monitored his pace as he walked a bit, ran a bit and jumped a bit negotiating the crowded foot-over bridge. He would glance at his wrist watch at times, cross check it with the huge wall clock that the railways referred to and he would also make sure it matched with the display on his cell phone. There was only one thing he had in mind, to make it to the 7:58 local.

After all he was now the customer service team leader of a leading telecom company. Only, he called it “Kyonstomer” service and he would call his customers, “Kyonster Monster”. He would have to answer at least a 200 “Kyons” in a day. “Kyon” in Hindi refers to “Why”. Each one had a reason but the question would always begin with a “kyon?”

He however had to follow the Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) to respond to each of those “Kyon” in a subtle and neutral tone, no matter how emotionally charged the “kyon” would be hurled at him.

Ironically, he was called “Utsuk” Kumar because as a child, he would ask the same question which kind of stuck to him till he got into this job. (“Utsuk” is curious in Hindi)

Ever since he got this job, he got allergic to “Kyon” and his personal curiosity had kind of become dormant.

That was about to change today.

As he got out of the halting yet moving train on platform No. 4 at his destination, he dashed towards the bridge to avoid the crowd. He was successful and had almost got to the top when he noticed a huge commotion back at the platform. He paused, trying to make a split second decision. His conscience commanded that he go back to see if there is anyone who needed help. His gut feeling was right. A young guy, who appeared to be an executive in a modern office, had fallen down as the crowd was alighting. As a result of his fall, others simply walked or manoeuvred over and around him when he was howling in pain. It took some time for the others to realize but by then sufficient damage was done and the poor lad appeared to have broken his knee and ankle. This could have been a mini-stampede considering the rush hour but let’s just say it was that lad’s lucky day.

Only at the hospital, after getting his shoes out, did they realize that the lad was wounded in the foot and there was sufficient blood loss. As the arrangement for blood from the bank could take time, the volunteers were asked for blood sampling. Utsuk’s blood group matched with that of the victim’s and the necessary preliminary treatment commenced as they all waited for his relatives to show up.

After narrating the entire story to Karim’s (victim’s name) parents and relatives, Utsuk and the others left. That evening, as he was slowly walking back, his mind was wandering all over the place as the million Thanks from Karim’s relatives kept playing like background score. “Allah taala aapko khoob barqat dein beta. Aap hamesha khush rahein”. Once the background score subdued out, he felt something strange inside. As if some part of him was resurrecting. Then all of a sudden, he was staring at a hundred questions or maybe the questions were staring at him.

In this entire episode, no one ever asked “Kyon” at any point. Be it in the hospital or the relatives or the administrative authorities. It was more of “Kya”, “Kaun”, “Kaise” “Kahan” and “Kab” etc. referring to the Whats, Whos, Hows, Wheres and Whens in Hindi.

With all this chaos going on in his mind, he abruptly stopped walking and stood still.

The expression on his face could be compared to that of Buddha’s moment of enlightenment.

While he had grown up learning a lot of things in school and in real life through events (be it wars, riots etc.), reported media and various debates and discussions, the one thing that stood out was the irrelevance of History. The curiosity around this got to him and hit him like a bolt of lightning.

As he walked again slowly, he was thinking, it was very clear (even in his line of work) that documentation of “facts” and knowledge transfer was absolutely necessary.

The question was, what relevance did “History” have?

Especially in the way it is perceived and taught today!

He wondered, while we all know who invented the telephone, what difference did that make? There are many people in the world today, who use a cell-phone without knowing who invented it.

How does knowing that change anything? Why is it important to know the dates of all the historical wars and heroes? What difference does it make in our day-to-day life? Do we know who thought of, tried and mastered the art of blood transfusion or any medical feat for that matter? Yet again the question that could not satiate his “utsukta” (curiosity) was the question – even if we knew, did it matter? What mattered was the content.

Unaware of the fact that he had reached home, his mind was racing to find answers and this was making him all the more restless. He tried in a different context. He remembered that Mahatma Gandhi was instrumental in getting us Independence and that he was conferred the title, “Father of the nation”. However, he also remembered all the other controversies that surrounded the name in today’s world. Not belittling that great man’s efforts, he thought, while there are people ready to kill each other on differences of opinion regarding some of his ideologies, what everyone seemed to have forgotten is his love for and message of “Non-Violence” and “Tolerance”.

Instead of creating communal tension each time there is a mention of either creating or dirtying a statue of the person who wrote our constitution, does everyone know what his thought process was or what he believed in? Do we as a country, strive enough to upkeep the constitution in the right spirit? What difference would it make if we did not know who wrote it and when did he/she write it?

Is the content NOT more important? Is the Documentation of facts or knowledge transfer alone not enough? Is it necessary to attach a date and a name to it?

It was clear that we attach too much importance to the “who” and “when” rather than the “what”, “why” and “how”. Depending on the “who”, answers to the other questions get distorted with time anyway.

He knew one thing for sure. “Utsukta” in Utsuk Kumar was back. He braced himself for a lot more sleepless nights as he tossed around in his bed with this one unanswered question.

Is HISTORY relevant at all?