The Old Man and His God Read online

  Now I was amazed at the boy’s honesty. I looked closely at his form and at the permanent address. He was the son of a very successful doctor. Obviously money or fame had not robbed him of his honesty and simplicity.

  9

  The Business of Philanthropy

  Sri Hiralal Jain was a successful pharmacist and businessman. He was kind-hearted, unassuming and shy. He had started his career in a pharmaceutical company and had gone on to build his own empire through hard work and honesty.

  One day, he came to meet me. We talked about our various projects and initiatives for some time, then he started talking about himself. ‘Mrs Murty, God has been exceedingly kind to me. My company is doing well and we are able to launch new products regularly. As a result we have a large range. I have only one son who is studying abroad. I am sure he will complete his studies, join my work and make it even more successful. I am always busy with work and travel and now I feel I have made enough money to last another generation. But there is one gap. I feel I have not done enough to give back to society in any big way. That is why I have come here today with a request.’

  I was still not sure where the conversation was leading, and asked him to go on.

  ‘I have learnt a lot about your work with the Infosys Foundation. You help people in the villages and slums. So I want to give you some basic medicines that you can distribute to the poor people. You can appoint a doctor to help you with your work in slums, I will pay his salary and also provide the medicines free.’

  I was touched. I said, ‘Your proposal is wonderful but we already have some doctors who work part-time on our projects. I will talk to them and tell them to make a list of the medicines they require. I will send you that list every month and come and collect the medicines at an appointed time from your office.’

  ‘No, no, you need not come. I will send them to you. But I have one condition.’

  I was worried. I should have known. No one gives a free lunch!

  Hiralal Jain said, ‘Nobody must come to know of my association with this work. I don’t want my name or my company’s name to appear anywhere. I want to savour the joy of giving without the publicity. I will remain an unknown donor.’

  This was a most unusual request. Normally, most of the people who come with donations are already planning their media statements. They may give the smallest sums of money, but hearing them talk it would seem that they had funded our entire operations.

  I agreed readily to his proposal. And so it was decided that every month his head clerk Karim would come with a box of the required medicines. His delivery van came near our office to some retail outlets and our supply would come in that.

  I thanked Hiralal Jain and sent up a prayer that ‘May his tribe increase’.

  So the system fell into place. Initially Hiralal donated Rs 10,000 worth of medicines, which slowly went up to Rs 50,000. He gave us his old Fiat car so the doctors could visit the slums in ease. But we hardly met. Whenever I called him to thank him he would tell me not to waste my time. When I sent him pictures of our medical camps he would call me and say he did not require proof of our work. He had faith in us.

  Years went by. Our work got more and more attention and many people started coming up and offering help. One pharmacy store offered to give us as much medicines we wanted every month. But I was reluctant to close the relationship with Hiralal Jain.

  One morning I got the news that he had passed away in his sleep. I prayed in silence. A pious soul like that had to go with minimum of fuss and suffering. I went to his office to pay my last respects. Ironically, I realized it was my first visit to his office in so many years. It was simple and decorated spartanly. I noticed a young handsome man in white with red, swollen eyes. The head clerk Karim whispered to me, ‘That is Saket Saab. He has just returned from the US.’

  I gathered Saket had studied for his MBA in the US and was working there for some years. Now he would come back and take over the business.

  Days passed and for two months the old system with Hiralal’s company continued. The medicine parcels reached us on time. The third month there was no sign of it. I thought I would wait for a few days and then call. When there was still no sign I dialled Hiralal’s office number. A polite voice answered from the other side. I assumed it was the receptionist and wondered what had happened to Karim. I was made to hold the line for some time. Then finally I was told, ‘Saket would like to meet you at his office tomorrow morning at nine.’

  Since he was the donor it was my duty to respect his wishes. I reached at 8.45 and was taken aback at the changes. Gone was the old spartan look. This was a modern corporate house with a pretty receptionist, fresh flowers in vases, framed paintings on the walls. There was a leather sofa set and the floor was now gleaming granite. A young lady ushered me to an antechamber and offered me some drinks. There was a huge portrait of Hiralal Jain in the hallway. Soon it was nearing nine o’clock, and I started making my way to Saket’s office. But I was stopped by the receptionist. ‘I am sorry, Saket sir is talking to a business executive and this may take ten more minutes. Please wait.’ So I waited. When it was 9.45, I decided it was enough and told her I was leaving. She spoke on the intercom and showed me in finally. When I entered I saw the business executive was still there. Saket looked at him apologetically and excused himself for five minutes. Then he turned to me and came straight to the point.

  ‘I have been going through our old records. My father gave you enormous amounts of money anonymously. I think that was a mistake and a waste of money. I am willing to continue our association but on some new terms. Our company’s and my name should appear prominently whenever you hold a camp. You must send someone to pick up the medicines every month. I can give you supplies only from our surplus stock and not what you want. You must address our employees once a year and talk about our donation. After all, philanthropy is key to business promotion.’

  By this time, five minutes were over and I got up. Politely I said, ‘Thank you but I cannot agree. I cannot find surplus diseases to suit your surplus medicines. I wanted to thank you for the support your father gave us over the years. The conditions were of his choice and we respected that. Now that our association is ending I just want to say, don’t mix business and philanthropy. You will not be able to do justice to either. Your father understood that. Perhaps one day you will too.’

  I left the office and in the hallway stood and looked at Hiralal Jain’s photo for a minute. Silently I said a final goodbye and stepped out.

  10

  A Helping Hand

  Like many natural disasters of great magnitude, the tsunami waves that struck the shores of our country in December 2004, opened our eyes to the myriad shades of human nature. Through the media, we saw and heard time and again about the devastation wreaked on coastal communities and how aid was pouring in from everywhere. In places which were in the news, the victims were soon inundated by a wave of relief material—saris, dhotis, towels, bed sheets, cooking stoves, vessels, plastic buckets, drinking water, mats, etc. In towns like Nagapattinam, Kadalur, Velankani and Karaikal, one could also see heaps of old and worn-out clothes which no one wanted, lying untouched on either sides of the road.

  The relief camps and wedding halls in these places had plenty of volunteers initially, distributing food or ration, giving injections to stop the spread of diseases and helping the injured. Often the victims expressed their dissatisfaction at the food being served as local food habits were being overlooked. Instead they demanded to be allowed to cook their own food. The donor and the benefactor were right in their own ways in this matter.

  Our team from the foundation set out first on a fact-finding mission before starting the relief work. For one, we decided to visit the towns in the news later, after they had moved away from the airwaves and the first rush of volunteers had departed. Meanwhile, we went to the smaller, lesser known villages and made a list of the essential articles needed by the people. We discovered that in some towns there was