Record-Breaking and Begging in the Lion’s Den

Last night I was invited (with my crew) to give a presentation about Action for Life at the local Lions Club in Coimbatore. The moment I sat down, I knew this would be an instant classic.

We were scheduled to start sharp at 7pm and be the top item on the evening’s bill. When the meeting got going at a very sub-continental 7:30, I could see the writing on the wall. Instead of the star attraction, we’d been bumped in favor of a more honored guest. Without notice, we slowly watched as we got pushed further and further down the agenda.

The reason for our slow and steady demise came in the form of a solitary guest, who calmly walked to the dais to sit in the seat of honor (which we no longer held). He was middle-aged, mustasched and spectacled. A generous South Indian paunch rolled from chest to over-belt and an easy presence rested on his face. After some basic greetings from the club president, we slowly began to get some answers about the mystery man.

Not kidding, it seemed our replacement guest of honor had recently set a Guinness World Record for doing the following things at the same time:

1) Writing with both left and right hand simultaneously
2) Writing text from five religious books
3) Writing those texts in five different languages
4) Writing for 24 hours continuously

I don’t think I’ve heard of a stranger feat worthy of note. But, then again, it’s been years since elementary school when I scoured my freshly-bought book-fair paperback version of the records. And here, now, in real life, not only had he been invited to the meeting to receive his honor, but so had the Guinness judges and various witnesses!

For a minute I was excited about all the hubbub. But oh how that would turn! And how fast! In an incredible turn of events, each person at the meeting (a total of 25 [and we accounted for 40% of that total]) was asked to give a speech to congratulate the new world record holder (no mention of the previous record). As this process moved forward, it degenerated into a general platform to say whatever you wanted. The group extended this opportunity to every other person in the room before the focus returned to us.

It wasn’t until 8:40 that we actually took to the stage. I assumed my duty of MC bravely, but limited my vision to a simple: “avoid disaster”. We had already given two multi-hour presentations during the day, traversed the city a couple times and were still looking for dinner. With the crowd looking uninterested (to be fair, they hadn’t looked interested once during the entire meeting) we abbreviated our bit, finished and started to leave.

This wouldn’t be so easy. As we walked towards the door, one of the leaders of the Lions told us that we had to stay and eat their food. Meanwhile our main fixer said we had to leave and go out to eat. This turned into a public disagreement in front of the small, but at least now interested crowd. It helped the theatre that our man, a barrel-chested middle-aged no-nonsense industrialist was up against a short, stout man in a bowtie, blazer and hat with wing flaps. With the blood boiling between them (and admittedly within me as this tragedy desperately needed a quick ending to stop the bleeding), my crew (remember, a full 40% of the meeting) literally stood frozen on the way to the door without any clear idea of who’s direction we should take. In what seemed an agonizingly long 15 seconds living as a bewildered Bernini sculpture, the argument finally ended. Baskar, our ever-cool leader sealed the deal with a classic Indian hand flip. We were liberated, turning down the food promised from the Lions and turning up for at our host’s dinner table.

In an almost surreal scene, I looked back at the 2nd floor balcony when we had reached the street. The administrative secretary and the treasurer had come out to make one last call for our return. Both men were speaking in Tamil, expressing pain on their faces and making the unmistakable motion of hand-to-mouth. It’s unmistakable because it’s the motion that Indian beggars make when they ask for food or money.

The moment grabbed me. So many times I’ve been asked for food from the hungry in India. Many times I’ve turned down the plea. Now I was being asked to eat the food. Along with my group, again, I rejected the open hand

There are many kinds of begging in this world. We walked away. They went inside.