A lesson from a cook

I crib a lot.
On various issues.
I often find myself underpaid, overworked, underutilised, over strained, underestimated, etc etc etc. More often than not things get down to money and the salaries we draw. We hardly think about the innumerable gifts that we are enjoying in our current lives.

The very reason am writing this post today is my small chat with my cook today.

A stone faced lady, that she is, Chhayabai was in a little talkative mood today. So, while I made myself a cup of hot milk she asked me about my family and other generic stuff. I chipped in to ask her about her children and pat came the reply "dono ghar pe rehte hain pagalon ki tarah". This wasn't the reply that I had expected. Then she told me her story. She has two children and both suffer from mental disorders. She told me that her daughter has problem with her memory and does not remember anything, so she is home. Then she told me the story of her son. Probably a guy of my age, may be a little younger. He was a normal schhol going kid till the age of twelve. And then he met with a rail accident after which he has not been able to walk properly. While she told me her tale of sorrow I was constantly looking in her eyes to find that moist corner. I could already feel the goosepimples on my hands, but her eyes remained dry.
They had a sparkle, on the contrary.
She was telling me how bright a student her son was. That they had put him in a good English Medium school and had arranged computer lessons for him. She was probably reliving those happy days as she narrated me the story.
I didn't know how to react. In the entire conversation, not once did she try to evoke sympathy for us.
For once, I realised the true meaning of an essay I had written long time back in school - "Health is Wealth". My father had asked me to add these closing lines : Health is Wealth, but Wealth certainly is not Health.