What Price Success?

A Perennial Stream's author, Penn Bobby Singh, wrote these words about Deoraj upon his passing. It got me thinking....Is it better to walk away from success if it is not on one’s own terms ?   What do you think?  Is it success at any cost, either to yourself or to others?

THE PASSING OF DEORAJ

I've had the pleasure to read A Perennial Stream and am, in fact, reading it a second time.  I find a second read of a book I have enjoyed gives even more pleasure the second time round.  You find yourself  either validating your opinion of characters or, occasionally changing them, and spotting things you missed the first time round.   I came away from my first read caring about Deoraj.  This second read has only cemented my admiration and affection for a man who I shall never meet but who, in many ways, reminds me of my own father.  He was also a kind, loyal man who always tried to do the right thing.  It's only with rereading the book that I noticed that there was a familiarity to Deoraj that I'd not recognized.

Anyway, I'm at the point in my second read where Deoraj dies.  My own father died younger than he should have and he, too, had a weak heart.  He died instantly after a heart attack.

There's a very touching tribute to Deoraj in the book and although I won't read about him any more in the physical sense, his spirit, kindness, and tenacity to always do no harm will flow down through the rest of A Perennial Stream....

'Deoraj Singh Bapna of the Bafna clan was fifty-seven years old when he passed away. Most first-generation success stories involve men who started with nothing and without the advantage of a good education or culture, were somewhat crude and almost uncouth. They didn’t think twice about using any means at their disposal, legal or illegal, brutal or not so brutal, to climb up the ladder. Deoraj was the exception. Despite starting with nothing, he set the highest standards of honesty, integrity, culture and compassion, which some even in his future generations found difficult to uphold, despite having all the advantages of money, power and influence. The amazing thing, however, was that there were others among his succeeding generations who were able to meet his high standards, inspired by the values he inculcated in his son and which were passed on from generation to generation.

Deoraj had a certain innocence and child-like quality about him which led most people to consider him naïve or simple-minded. In reality, it took a high degree of intelligence and strength of character for any man to start at the bottom and achieve what Deoraj did, without hurting anybody along the way and without compromising his self respect. His greatest attribute was his ever-willingness to walk away from success if it was not on his terms, a tradeoff only the very best of us can make.

A thousand people attended Deoraj’s funeral and they all agreed on one thing: in all of his thirty-eight years in Jaisalmer, Deoraj had never hurt a soul. The harsh hand that life dealt him over and over again had made him rebellious, but he was the gentlest rebel anyone had ever known.'

Just so you know, the Kindle edition of A Perennial Stream is now available on Amazon here:

A Perennial Stream - Kindle Edition

FIRST LOOK AT A PERENNIAL STREAM

The setting for A Perennial Stream flows between India, Europe and the US.  For a first look at the book, here's a passage that takes place in the US.  We hope you will enjoy. Please let us know what you think.  Any thoughts and discussion would be very welcome.  Thank you.

The Welfare Queen

He started dreaming again. A good-looking older man came into focus. This man was making a speech inside a packed chamber, addressing a crowd of men in business suits sitting on classroom type chairs. AJ could only hear bits and pieces, straining to make sense of what the man was saying. The man was well groomed and not only exuded confidence, but also seemed to be inspiring it in his audience. The man’s words travelled in slow motion to AJ’s ears. He heard something and then the words “welfare queen.” Next he heard “shining city on the hill,” and then he heard “government is the problem,” followed by “the evil empire.” Light bulbs went off in AJ’s mind and he recognized the man. It was Reagan. As soon as he realized that, AJ suddenly found himself sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, watching the sun rise over the Capitol. The sky was cloudless and it promised to be a lovely day.

Its morning in America again, thought AJ, as he looked at the red button he was holding which said “Reagan/Bush 80.” He had saved this one button from back in his college days when he volunteered for the Reagan/Bush campaign.

  In a flash, AJ was driving a large black Cadillac through the streets of Washington. He was in the northwest section. The buildings all seemed to be shiny and located on top of a hill.

With no warning, AJ found himself in the southeast section of the city. Dilapidated buildings falling apart, trash everywhere, abandoned lots, boarded up shops, and young black kids soliciting drug sales attack the senses. AJ started looking for Welfare Queens. He didn’t know what or who to look for, but he just started asking around—for Welfare Queens. One kid said he didn’t have Welfare Queen, but he just got a new shipment of some mind-blowing Hawaiian.

 AJ shook his head. He didn’t think Welfare Queens were Polynesian. The kid did promise to inform his supplier that street demand for Welfare Queen was heating up. 

AJ was getting desperate now. He started frantically knocking on doors, one dilapidated building after another, looking for the Welfare Queen—just one Welfare Queen.  No such luck. 

*****

AJ now saw himself in Camden, NJ.  He had just arrived from downtown Philly, where he had spent the whole day searching for Welfare Queens. Why could he not find any Welfare Queens? They must be very cagey, these Welfare Queens. They must be hiding. Hiding from whom, though? President Reagan? Why? Why would anybody want to hide from a kindly old grandfather who brought morning in America again and put all of America on a shiny hill? Or was it the shining America on a hill? Whatever… Anyway, AJ was very confused.

 He kept running from city to city, coast to coast, one inner city area to another inner city area. The entire time he just couldn’t shake the lines from a song he had listened to a lot as a teenager:

 And in the master’s chambers
They gathered for the feast;
They stab it with their steely knives,
But they just can’t kill the beast

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t locate the Welfare Queen. Just as he was about to give up he saw a black woman driving an old junker of a Cadillac. It stopped in front of a pathetic looking row house. The woman got out of the car, went around and started pulling at the passenger side door. After a few tries the passenger side door gave way and a young Asian man, probably Chinese got out. The woman was wearing fake fur and smelled of cheap perfume. There was a halo around her head. There she is, AJ thought. Finally, I have found the Welfare Queen. As he moved towards her, she disappeared inside the house, with the Asian man. AJ waited outside the row house. After a while, the Asian man came out. AJ started to go in, but he felt something hitting him at the back of his head with a heavy thud. He blacked out.

*****

When he awoke, AJ was lying on a filthy bed. He saw a little black boy and a little black girl running around, laughing. They were wearing cheap t-shirts and shorts. The room had junk everywhere, and an old refrigerator in the corner of the room was open and almost empty. He looked to the other side, and lo and behold—there was the Welfare Queen! Shangri La! Her clothes were cheap, but her movements were elegant and catlike, and she had a natural elegance, which she wasn’t even conscious of. She moved forward and offered AJ a cup of black coffee.

“How do you feel now, Hon?” asked the Welfare Queen.

“All right, I guess,” said AJ. “My head hurts, though.”

“You will be fine. You are lucky it was not a hard blow. You should be careful in these parts, you know,” said the Welfare Queen. 

“You are the Welfare Queen, right?” asked AJ.

“I can be anything you want me to be,” replied the Welfare Queen, “but you best rest right now and when you are all healed, you come back, you hear. I will be your Queen and it will be on the house. Okay, Hon?”

“You lied to me,” said AJ. “You are not the Welfare Queen. You are the Queen of Hearts.”

She turned around and smiled the prettiest, warmest smile he had ever seen. He felt the warmth of that smile envelope his body as he slipped back into deep slumber.