It's usually between 6 and 8 in the evening that i reign supreme in the office. That's because i am the only one around that time. What stops me during the day, you could ask. Now, i would like to believe that i am quite a democrat and we all know the state of Indian prime ministers, don't we?
It was one such evening, around 7:30 when the calming silence of Ansari Road — an interesting place caught in the middle of old and new Delhi and infested with people who are ready to give their lives to get space for parking their severely dented cars, (my car and driver included) was broken by the loud ring of the phone. Unwillingly, i took the call. A heavy but warm voice with a strong South Indian accent beamed, "Is this Wisdom Tree? What is the price of Zen and the art of Happiness ?" 'Okay', i thought to myself, 'here we go.' The gentleman did know how to get me out of my shell though. He ended the fifteen minute conversation with these words, "My dear young man, i must really compliment you, the kind of books you publish, it's really commendable and you should feel lucky that you are earning your money by doing what i think is actually social work. God bless you." I muttered something like "You are being very kind, thank you." and hung up.
It was only after a few seconds that what he really said registered in my mind. How many people in this world receive a call from a 70-year old complete stranger, sitting several hundred miles away, blessing them for what they have been chosen to do?
I surely feel really lucky to be a publisher.
