It was just a second day in Hong Kong after I returned back from India. At around 10:15 PM I boarded on minibus 22S to return to my place. Minibus picked up speed and suddenly stopped in the next moment. Door opened and a medium heighted, young looking, bright Chinese fellow came in, swiped his Octopus and sat next to me. Minibus jumped again, and took a turn to join the hurdle race with the traffic in Central. As soon as the minibus left the traffic behind and climbed on the Upper Albert Road, the guy pulled some papers from his bag. He drew 6 lines and put up days of the week on the header. My curiosity forced to peep in to his text. Under ‘Monday’ he wrote ‘1. Fill up the jar’, ‘2. Feed the fishes’ and then some text in Chinese. He went on filling the entire spreadsheet which looked like his weekly schedule. Meantime, I was thinking about an issue which I always face with 22S. If I don’t tell to the driver, 22S would never stop at Queen Merry Hospital. I turned to neighbor and asked him a question.
Me: Hello, excuse me sir, can you please help me?
The man: Yes, tell me.
Me: Sir, can you please tell me how I should tell driver in Chinese that I want to get down at Queen Mary Hospital.
The man: Sure, so you want to get down exactly at Queen Mary Hospital? or somewhere nearby?
Me: umm, exactly at Queen Mary Hospital.
The man turned to the old driver and told him something in Cantonese. “hayya hayya” - driver looked back and nodded at him. I got the signal that driver understood what the man explained him. I was happy to know that at least tonight the minibus will run over the bridge and drop me off at the desired bus stop.
Me: thank you sir, thanks for your help. May I know what you said in Chinese? How should I say the message, next time?
The man: it’s easy. “Ma layee … yao loc!!”. ‘Ma layee’ is Queen Mary and ‘yao loc’ is please stop’.
Me: ‘Maa layee.. yao loccc’, is that right?
The man: ‘Maa layee.. yao loc’ …. you got it! [a long pause] where are you from?
Me: I am from India. [smile]
The man: where from in India?
Me: Mumbai …Bombay [Though I am not originally from Mumbai, I take this a shortcut as most of the Chinese know about Mumbai and thus I don’t have to explain whole map of India to tell where exactly I am from]
While he was completing his weekly schedule he asked.
The man: So are you working in Hong Kong?
Me: Yeh
The man: where? what do you do?
Me: sir, I work here with a management consulting firm here. We help clients in private equity and other seven industries with market intelligence and related strategies. [smile]
The man: ohhh … do you like the work?
Me; oh ya, pretty much. I get something new to know and learn about business. So I’m happy.
The man: you said you are from India. How many languages you speak? I assume you already know Hindi and English.
Me: yes sir, you are correct. I know 3 Indian regional languages apart from Hindi and English. Marathi, Kannada and little bit of Gujarati …
The man: wow you know many things in such a young age, how old are you? 22?
Me: [laughed] no sir, I am 26 now.
The man: really? Good.
Minibus crossed the University and I was approaching my destination. The man turned back to his schedule and filled few more blocks. As minibus travelled further, I collected my bags and prepared to get off the minibus. Signal turned green and the minibus crossed the road to crash land at Queen Mary Hospital stop. The man got up before I did and walked out of minibus. After getting down, I approached the man.
Me: Thank you sir for your help with translation. I will remember ‘maa layee.. yao loc..’
The man: no worries my son. [He sounded like an adult. It was always difficult for me to guess an age of Chinese. These folks look bright even when they turn 50. I thought he is one of those.] Where do you stay?
Me: Sir, I stay across the road. You can see my place from here.
The man: Ok. If you are not doing something great, would you like to spend some time with me? I have to visit the hospital for 15-20 minutes and then we could talk over a hot cup of tea or coffee.
It was almost 11 in the night. I got really curious with a sudden offer from a young looking old Chinese fellow. Thought for a moment and then I replied.
Me: Okay sir. I’d be happy to join you.
The man: Good. Come let’s take an elevator.
We entered the elevator. The man turned to me and asked.
The man: what’s your name?
Me: Sir, you can call me Vishwa. That’s my short name.
The man: Viss.. va.. ?
Me: [smiled] ya, sounds okay.
We got off the elevator. The air outside was breezy and cold.
The man: I am going to meet my wife inside the hospital. Will you wait near Seven Eleven for 10-15 minutes?
Me: Okay sir, I will be around.
The man left and disappeared behind the entrance doors of hospital. I was puzzled about whole situation, and doubted my own thinking. I was following the words of a Chinese man whom I met just an hour ago. I had no absolute idea why I said yes to have a coffee together, and listen to that stranger. While leaning on the side railing, I was totally filled with a series of thought about what’s gonna happen when the man come back. What he will ask about and what he will say to me? What was his interest in meeting me? And why I chose to spend time with this old fellow?
Somebody patted my back. The old Chinese guy was back with two paper cups in hand filled with black coffee.
The man: Viss..va.. I hope black coffee works with you.
Me: it’s absolutely fine sir. [Though I hated bitter taste of black coffee, I wasn’t keen to trouble the guy for sugar packets and milk. Also, I was thinking of finishing the coffee quickly and get back to my place.]
The man: Get used to the taste of black coffee. You will find it helpful.
Me: Haa, why did you say so sir?
The man: Vis..va.. that’s how the things work in life. You will find more bitter things than sweet ones. If you know how to enjoy the bitter taste you will be better off in the life. It may sound philosophical, but believe me, that’s how it works.
Me: Sir, seems like you have had very tough life. I beg your pardon, if my guess is wrong.
The man: No, no. Don’t be so formal. You are right in guessing. It was really tough for me to survive and reach here. But I won’t tell you my story.
I interrupted him.
Me: Sir please, I’d be happy to hear about you.
The man: No Viss..va.. I will not tell you my story. But let me tell you something what I learnt out of it. Let’s walk.
I followed the heavy footsteps of the guy.
The man: What do you want to do in your career? Do you have a plan?
I explained him my career plan of progressing in current field and then look for opportunities that would help me get better.
The man: Don’t give me that bullshit. With my experience of judging people, I know you have a good brain. Don’t waste your days in muddling up with usual things like everyone else do. Son, think of something big, and then see if you can cut it in pieces. You know, dreaming whole dream in pieces. Most definitely you will be able to do that.
Me: I am following you sir. [It was too abstract to understand, still I pretended like I knew what he talked about]
The man: Take up each piece of your dream and try working on it. Someday definitely it will big and complete. This is how the painter paints the poster, builder build homes and your mother cooks food. All of they know what they are going to prepare, they tear apart the whole plan in pieces and at the end create nice painting, a good home and fantastic noodle soup.
He coughed and cleared his voice. I took another sip of coffee. Bitter taste and the words were hitting my mind.
The man: For last 26 years I have seen people struggling with the usual life, wasting their brain, running behind false desires. Though countries and cultures were different, all were having same block. So boy, I advise you not to fall in same trap. Use your life in creating something big.
His philosophical wasn’t making me feel better. I was thoroughly confused about whether I should really take some stranger’s advice and think over it? In fact, should be really listening to his words. Who the hell was he to guide me on my career?
The man: Viss..vaaa.. You think a lot. Just now you are thinking. And probably you will… when you go back. [he laughed a loud]
Me: Sir, how you know that?
The man: I can read it on your face. [he laughed again]
Me: Sir, I am sure, you must be telling it for good.
The man: you are very formal my son. Whatever I told just now is still incomplete. Let’s go and sit on those stairs.
We went to the staircase nearby, cleared the place and sat next to each other.
The man: Now listen to me very carefully. When you learn to dream in pieces and start building it day by day, you will also have to develop a skill to hold the pieces together. That’s important else everything that you do is useless. Are you getting me?
Me: Yes sir, I am following you.
The man: You’re probably not. It is easy to say and discuss, but not so easy to imagine it for our life. 26 years back, I started my business. I bought few distressed real estate projects in Xi’an province, broke it apart, modified the projects and sold those in pieces for the price higher than I paid for it.
He sounded like Edward Lewis’ story from my favorite movie ‘Pretty Woman’. I was not ready to believe his story. But I didn’t have any other choice that listening to that man. Though I doubted his words, I wanted to hear him.
The man: Over the years it grown. I started putting in pieces in place. It all started growing, and later on it became really big. I bought real estate businesses in Australia, Japan, Singapore, and in your country India. I expanded my business in shipping industry. But let me tell you, I forgot to develop the skill to hold pieces together. 3 years back I lost few deals, my business took a hit, and to make it worse my partner left the company.
He gave a big sigh. I was listening to him carefully.
The man: you know, who finally taught me the complete truth? My wife! She showed me the way to come out of stack of pieces, and hold them right and tight.
He got up suddenly, took out his mobile and dialed a number. Someone answered his call from other side. He mumbled something in Chinese and thrown his coffee cup in the dustbin. He turned back to me.
The man: Viss..vaa.. My wife is out of Operation Theater now. I have to go and see her. Here is my card, call me sometime.
The man pulled his business card from the card holder, handed over to me and rushed towards the hospital doors. I rolled over the card, and saw his name embossed in golden letters - ‘Patrick Lee Chung Hung’. The man I met was a managing director of a Hong Kong based private equity and financial consultancy company.
I suddenly heard his voice again. He shouted from a distance.
The man: Hay Viss..va.. Let me tell you this. You are a handsome and intelligent boy. Find a good girl for you. Spend your life with her and don’t let her die. Never let her die.
I smiled and waived at him.
Me: Good night sir. Please take care.
Patrick disappeared behind the hospital doors. I was wondering, why he talked about a girl and death? What is its connection with dreaming in pieces and holding those together? I walked down the stairs of the Queen Mary Hospital with many questions in my mind.
Then I grew and went to school in the city. New classmates, new environment, new world around. Now, I was not staying with my mum and dad. I saw, at my classmates, my teachers and got inspired to become like them. Some were brilliant, some were cool, and few of them were both. Continuously, I kept copying someone or other. Like, I was chasing someone who probably I wanted to be like. Still I was not clear what was I doing? Funny enough, I was not knowing that I don't have idea what did I do and what I suppose to do.
