The Last Word

CSR : Lessons from a Tea Vendor

Rajen Kumar
Jul 2012
 Our mighty corporate may be indulging in CSR as a compulsion to display their social face to the world but Rana ji, a small time tea vendor in Rajasthan has been practicing it for years albeit unknowingly and silently.
 
After completing a research project in Rajasthan, accompanied by my four-member team, I started our return journey from Delhi from Jodhpur early in the chilly morning of December to be home in time. It was yet dark and the cold was telling on our nerves and how we wished to find a cup of tea in the chill of deserts. 
 
I stopped my ‘Gypsy’ spotting a tea vendor struggling with fire woods in his make-shift earthen stove to keep them aflame. Sighting tea was like finding a little sunlight in the frozen dark desert. 
 
We found an old man, in his seventies with his face poorly visible in the reflection of fire light, getting ready to make tea. “Ram Ram,” we wished him profusely. Rising from a small brick platform, he measured us up. “Ram Ram,” he responded richly. We asked him if he would prepare five cups of tea for us. He nodded but cautioned us, “you have to wait a while. I have to prepare ten cups first. I will prepare your tea afterwards,” he said comfortably.
 
We were surprised as there was no one else except us and wondered what he will do with ten cups at this early hour with no customer around. Yet we decided to keep quiet and wait and watch. Soon we saw a group of young boys, in their early teens in tattered clothes started trickling in from nowhere. Each of them was carrying an empty jute bag. They all sat on a small parapet wall nearby like a disciplined group of school boys. Meanwhile, the tea vendor, known as Rana ji as we later came to know, without much noticing their arrival, kept himself busy in making tea most ardently. He started putting in place ten glasses neatly lined up on the floor. Carefully pouring tea, he filled all the glasses one by one and signaled a boy who swiftly came to pick their tea. Handing over a glass to each of his group members, the boy took his seat without uttering a word. And Rana ji took out ten pieces of rusks (country snack) from a jar and stepped towards the boys sipping tea to hand over one to each of them. No word was exchanged as the whole operation took nearly 10 minutes.
 
I was amazed to watch this incredible sight and so were my colleagues. Tea over, we thought the boys will now make payments for the tea and the snacks. More surprise was in store for us. Each boy went to a nearby water tap, washed his glass and handed over to Rana ji and went off one by one. No money was paid as we watched in awe.
 
Meanwhile, our tea was ready. As we enjoyed the hot cuppa amidst chilly winds, I became inquisitive. I drew Ranaji attention shooting a series of questions. “Who are these boys? Will they pay you later on? Where they have come from? When did they order you for tea and snacks? Ranaji smiled coolly, “they are very poor rag pickers. They have no one to take care of and lean on. They are very alone. They hardly make Rs. 10 to 15 a day. I start my day by offering them a cup of tea and some snack free of cost. It gives me so much satisfaction. I pray for their well-being. I believe that this way their day passes off well. I take so much pleasure in this. This is all I can do for these children. This is the ritual I am observing for years now. This is how I offer my morning prayer to God every day.” Ranaji stunned us all beyond words.
 
“I am sorry to keep you waiting. I never sell my first ten tea cups even if someone offers me Rs.100 for a cup. Only these poor children have a right on my first cups of tea,” he told us wearing a great pride on his face. That day I discovered a man engaged in a petty business taller than the most mighty in the world of business.
 
A small tea vendor operating from a make-shift shop with thatched roof on a pavement learned CSR like no one. I had no word to utter. Meanwhile darkness had started withering away with the day break. Little light started showing the big man and his small shop. I asked myself, only if we had Ranajis everywhere; things would have been different.
 
Ranaji retired as a peon from a government office a few years ago. Blessed with two sons and one daughter,
Rana ji gave them whatever he could. “I may not have given them a comfortable life but good education and good culture was always my priority. Rest depends on Almighty,” he confided in me.
 
Day in and day out, we hold high-tech seminars, organize meetings in five star comforts to discuss and deliberate Corporate Social Responsibility little realizing that CSR activities can be initiated by anyone from anywhere, even from a pavement by a petty tea vendor earning a pittance for his family of five. How many amongst us is doing what Ranaji did?
 
I have not gone again to Jodhpur to meet Ranaji. But am sure, he must be a very happy man. He has to be.    
Comment
Name :

Email Address :

Comment :
Enter the code :*
0 Comments >>