Tuesday, 3 November 2015

A Walk To Remember.

I don't know what had happened that day. Since morning, I had the feeling of incompleteness and something was pricking me hard from inside. Something was telling me, I had to make the day complete. But how? The day was usual, same routine I had been following for nearly six months now, then what was bothering me so much today? I couldn't concentrate on anything. Studies seemed to disinterest me, and other pastimes seemed dull and empty. I couldn't understand myself what was happening. I couldn't comprehend what was missing.
Finally, I came back to my room from wherever I was. I thought I needed some rest. But when I lied down on my bed, I was just tossing and turning, and all my emotions were acting alien to me. I wasn't feeling anything, except restlessness. I wanted to do something. But what? I walked here and there within the house. No use. Turned on the TV, still feeling indifferent. Tried talking to my roommates, but couldn't concentrate on what they were speaking, either. Finally, I decided to go out and spend some quality time with myself. But again, where to go? I took the keys of my vehicle and a water bottle with me. All this while, I had been knuckling. Something that I didn’t do usually. Something was definitely wrong.
I went downstairs, in the parking of my building and looked at my red-colored-Activa. It seemed at peace, so I thought I shouldn’t disturb it. I giggled at myself. Then I began walking to I-Don’t-Know-Where. While walking, I had the feeling of something missing, I had been deprived of something these days. Just that I couldn’t figure out what.
I came out of my society’s campus. There were huge trees and children were playing around it, running, falling over each other and laughing. I stopped by, to watch them. They seemed carefree; the kind of victorious smile was on their face, like no worry had ever hovered around them. One of the kids pushed the other one, but as soon as he fell down, he lent him his hand to stand up. And after that, there was no quarrel among them. Again they began to play like nothing had happened.

Yes! Maybe I miss the genuine smile I used to have, nowadays to cope up and stand up with the world, I’ve become so fake and presented that I have lost the authenticity of my smile. I miss helping others when I have let them down. In today’s world, life is no less than a race. Nobody has time to lend their hand to the one they’ve disappointed. I miss being a child.

I smiled at myself, and kept walking further. There was grocery store. It was crowded. I went near it, I don’t know why. There was an old lady, who couldn’t get into the crowd.
“May I help you, Aunty?” I asked her.
She looked at me with sheer surprise. I smiled at her.
“What do you want to get?” I asked her again.
“Get me two kgs of rice and a jar of pickle, please.” She said with such sweetness, I could’ve bought the entire store for her.
“Sure,” I said instead and asked her to wait outside. I entered the crowd and bought whatever she had told me. When I came out of the crowd, her eyes were filled with happiness.
“Where are you going, Aunty? Shall I carry this for you? It’s a bit heavy.” I said.
“I live nearby, beta. I’ll carry it. That was so generous of you to help me. Here, take the money--”
“No, no. It’s fine. I hope we’ll meet again.” I said.
“I’m sure we would. My son had gotten married five years ago. His wife doesn’t want to stay with me. She thinks I’m a burden. She doesn’t let my son meet me, too. Nor my grandchildren. But you know, my son is visiting me tonight for dinner, alone. But I know he’d come back to me soon. It’s not his fault, you know. I’ve forgiven them. And I know, his wife will understand one day.” She smiled widely and said.
“Oh! Then I wish he comes soon. Take care, Aunty. If you need me, visit my place, I stay just two blocks away.” I said.
She went away after that.
Yes! Maybe I miss being positive about my life. Life has paced up with such rapid speed, with all my emotions acting so adversely and negatively, I’ve almost forgotten that there’s an optimistic side to everything, too. I get so angry over petty things; I’ve forgotten how to forgive. I miss having the ability to let go of things I cannot change.

On my way, I reached a highway. I walked by the footpath. It had become dark now, the sun had set already. I still didn’t feel satisfied, so I hadn’t even thought of going back to my room. Along the footpath and under the flyover, there were people- sitting, sleeping, crying. I just looked at them. Someone touched my kurti. I saw a little child, seemingly malnourished, grab my hand. He asked me for some money. He was dark, with no shirt put on. His hairs were ruffled, and hands had numerous injuries. My heart melted at this sight, and I gave him a hundred-rupee-note.
“Didi, bhook lagi hain.” He said with a tint of sadness in his voice.
I took him to a nearby sweets shop and bought a few samosas for him. He looked at me with happiness in his eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks. I saw him then going to the footpath and sharing it with his entire family. All of them looked happy, satisfied.
Yes! Maybe I miss being satisfied in my life. Human wants are unlimited and are an exception to the theory of Diminishing Marginal Utility. Everyone wants more of everything, may it be money, or love or fame. Nobody is ever satisfied. I miss feeling content with whatever I had, and not sad for what I didn’t have. I miss feeling complete.

As I went further, I saw a man arguing with an autorickshaw driver. I could figure out they were discussing something over the fare-rate that had been charged. I went there and asked what had happened. The autorickshaw driver told me that the man didn’t have enough money to pay the fare. I asked how much he was short of.
Behen, 12 Rupees.” The man with a dhoti and a turban said.
“Here.” I said. I didn’t know why I was helping everyone I met. I just felt like I should.
The autorickshaw driver went away. The man thanked me over and over again, but deep inside, he looked concerned for something. When I asked him, he told me that this year, it hadn’t rained enough and he couldn’t harvest the crops. He needed to use fertilizers and that’s why he was here, to buy those. But the cost of those fertilizers had increased with its demand; everyone needed it due to shortage of rains. And all his money was spent in buying those fertilizers.
“But I have a hope in my heart. Though it hasn’t rained much this year, next year it would. God won’t be so cruel. He won’t let us die of starvation. I have faith in Him.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Haan ji,” I said, “hope is a good thing.” I said.
“But what are you doing here at this time? It’s 8.30. You should go home now. It’s late. Aur yeh duniya acchi nahin hain.” He said.
Soon, he bid me a goodbye and went back. I, too, headed back to my room.
Yes! Maybe I miss having a hope, I miss having that little light of goodness in all the dark and adverse circumstances. I miss talking to Him in my saddest days, I miss having faith in Him and I miss believing that whatever He does, He does for good.

As soon as I reached home, I tucked myself in my bed, knowing that I had realized what I was deprived of. I feel eternal. I feel so good the way it is, but I don’t tell it to anyone. I keep it confined to myself. I feel positive and satisfied. Thinking about the goodness of my life, I fall asleep.

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