Nowadays, it has become a cliche to name Mr. So & So as a role model.And channels from spirituality to movies are busy minting money by distributing awards like "Indian of the Year" and so on.

Nothing wrong with that either.

Today's society is starved for super-heroes/heroines and everyone from Ms.Kiran Bedi to Ms.Rakhi Sawant can claim their name to fame by their utterly revolutionary deeds.

And so how can I not join the band-wagon?

My role-model is a hero neither by appearance nor by deeds.

To tell you the truth, he is a drunkard. A person who drinks every day and night.

On meeting him face to face, the first thing you notice or rather your nasal glands will notice (except on a day when you are having a real bad cold) is the strong pungent smell of liquor.

And then if you bother to look at his face, you will notice a pale face devoid of any emotion except his sunken deep eyes.

Flared up in such a dark reddish shade that I fear a newly-married lady would scream to her young smart hubby - "Merawala Red !!!"

He is a thin - pale man, with a dark complexion and often seems to be lost in himself. Not at all an interesting character.

He lives very close to my home, scarcely has visitors, have no friends and very few distant relatives. Born loser, you would say.

However, he has a family - 2 daughters, both married and a wife - inflicted with a mental disorder.

"Schizophrenia, that's what the doctors said. You know, Rawgul.My head went crazy allover the place".

Rawgul.That's how he pronounces Rahul.I like it immensely.Calls me by name rarely. For most of the times it is "Ma Friend."

He talks of his youth. A young man of 18 - getting married off to a girl of 13. From then onwards, started his long and untiring journey ...rather a saga of suffering, frustration and .......albeit TOLERANCE.

"Hey Rawgul, you see ... I cud have quit any day. She's outta her mind - beat me black n blue one day. And on other,just left home - with ma two kids inside.Even flirted with some of the fuckin' guys I knew well."

You just don't know what to say at that.You realize, atsuch times that, silence is a powerful tool.

"Ma friend, you donno in those days how I survived with ma two angels. I had to go to work with no one to look after ma girls except this mad lady."

By now, my impatience is really exhausted like his 4th peg of whiskey on the table.

"Oh Dear Sir, why the hell did you not try for divorce or inform her parents or put her in a mental home ?"

I feel elated by the options my brain thinks of. But his reply puts my pride to dust.

"Rawgul, you don't get it,".. he pauses . "I loved her, maan. She had nobody in this wretched old world n ma kids wud loose their wretched old madder (read mother)."

His reply turns my head down to see my second half-empty glass of beer. I should have told the waiter to make it extra strong.

"Hey Rawgul, look at me man."

Now I have seen smart guys becoming dumber after gulping down a couple of drinks.But he is simply the reverse.

"Only for ma two kids", he murmurs in soft voice.

We all have our ups and downs in our lives.

In our ups, we celebrate and in our downs we feel dejected. Depression imbibes our thinking and engulfs our character.

I have seen men and women with the sleekest gadgets and posh-est clothes but with dark circles beneath their eyes and it tells a lot in a few seconds. A lot. Of their lives and their stresses.

But still we pull on. Hope that tomorrow will be better. Hope is elixir of life, they say.

But what could I say to a man who has been only through his down for 40 long years. With no hope to look for tomorrow.

But for all these 40 years,he stood tall and firm. For his girls. Educated them. Got them married off in due course. And it is this quality I simply admire.

Quality of TOLERANCE. Fighting against the tide. Swimming upstream. Whatever you may call.

Last year, his wife died. I went to the funeral. I have never seen a man who found great relief even in his utter grief.

The Begining.