Traveling is nice. I like it. On a move always better than getting stagnant most times. Traveling alone... an altogether different experience. It's like a small get away from the people you know by being amidst people you don't know! Something constant ? People... U cant escape people, can you!? Very difficult. You can escape from the knowing set of eyes for a while, only to have another set of unknown judging eyes all over you. Where there are people, there is judgement. Fun when played like a game, but totally pissing off otherwise.
When you are out dawdling with friends, there's always this game you like to play, where you try and figure out the people around. Their profession, their age, their marital status, their financial status, their thoughts right now, mind-reading, soul-searching(not your own) etc etc. It's fun! But sometimes funny turns nosy. That's when it's pissing.
Last evening as i traveled on a bus, i sat alone on a two seater at the window side, glad to have the wind hitting my face as the sun set, casting its beauty rays on my face. I always love watching the sun rays on people early in the morning, and late in the evening. It makes people look out of the world, and nice, for a change! ;-) As i was beaming looking at myself with my mind eye, under the impression that i must be glowing like an angel, an old lady, came to sit next to me.
She was so thin, petite and weak, I was alarmed by the fact that I still felt i was the only one sitting on the seat. Her presence was hardly felt. She was that little. Her face didn't have a trace of kumkum, head almost bald, with just a few white hair scattered around, making it look like a spider-woven web! I asked her if she wanted to sit by the window. She just smiled and looked away. Either she couldn't hear me, or she did not understand the language, or she did not want to switch seats...! With nothing more i could do, i resumed with my looking-out-of-the-window, still thinking about the woman next to me.
I wondered how she must have looked back then, when she was young. Whether she has had a happy life, if she has lived her dreams, whether she married the love of her life, if she had ever come over the death of her husband, whether she had kids, if they were good enough to make her wishes come true. And then i imagined my life, long years from now. When i am old.... and i couldn't resist a chuckle. Cos it reminded me of a comment i came across on FB some days back. It said the present Generation youth would make a strange set of Grandparents who would call each other 'Dude'! Lol...
Snapping me outta my thought-train was the next stop, and the lady next to me was getting off her seat. Ok, i thought, this is where she's going. She was going to the Temple. I watched her get down helped by the conductor.. Good man... And just before the bus left, she looked up at my window and smiled. And then i just knew it in my heart, the reason of her smile earlier. It was the kindness that mattered to her. Not the seat, nor the language, nor her ear. Just the tone of my voice made her smile. I ll never know how her life has been, what she's going through, or how long she's gonna live. But i did have a feeling, that yesterday when she stood in front of God, she included me in her prayers. And i prayed God that her prayers come true. Tathastu.
When you are out dawdling with friends, there's always this game you like to play, where you try and figure out the people around. Their profession, their age, their marital status, their financial status, their thoughts right now, mind-reading, soul-searching(not your own) etc etc. It's fun! But sometimes funny turns nosy. That's when it's pissing.
Last evening as i traveled on a bus, i sat alone on a two seater at the window side, glad to have the wind hitting my face as the sun set, casting its beauty rays on my face. I always love watching the sun rays on people early in the morning, and late in the evening. It makes people look out of the world, and nice, for a change! ;-) As i was beaming looking at myself with my mind eye, under the impression that i must be glowing like an angel, an old lady, came to sit next to me.
She was so thin, petite and weak, I was alarmed by the fact that I still felt i was the only one sitting on the seat. Her presence was hardly felt. She was that little. Her face didn't have a trace of kumkum, head almost bald, with just a few white hair scattered around, making it look like a spider-woven web! I asked her if she wanted to sit by the window. She just smiled and looked away. Either she couldn't hear me, or she did not understand the language, or she did not want to switch seats...! With nothing more i could do, i resumed with my looking-out-of-the-window, still thinking about the woman next to me.
I wondered how she must have looked back then, when she was young. Whether she has had a happy life, if she has lived her dreams, whether she married the love of her life, if she had ever come over the death of her husband, whether she had kids, if they were good enough to make her wishes come true. And then i imagined my life, long years from now. When i am old.... and i couldn't resist a chuckle. Cos it reminded me of a comment i came across on FB some days back. It said the present Generation youth would make a strange set of Grandparents who would call each other 'Dude'! Lol...
Snapping me outta my thought-train was the next stop, and the lady next to me was getting off her seat. Ok, i thought, this is where she's going. She was going to the Temple. I watched her get down helped by the conductor.. Good man... And just before the bus left, she looked up at my window and smiled. And then i just knew it in my heart, the reason of her smile earlier. It was the kindness that mattered to her. Not the seat, nor the language, nor her ear. Just the tone of my voice made her smile. I ll never know how her life has been, what she's going through, or how long she's gonna live. But i did have a feeling, that yesterday when she stood in front of God, she included me in her prayers. And i prayed God that her prayers come true. Tathastu.
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