A sentence ran across, in front of her. She had read it a hundred times before. But everytime she looked away from it, shehad longed to read it again. They soothed her, gave her courage, a reason to her existence, an excuse to keep her heart beating. . . That sentence summed up her life.
They were just words....put carefully in order....but... meant so much more than just what they conveyed. She could weave her entire future, with just the thread of those words. They calmed her when she was restless. She looked at them, as she relived the little moments that they had spent. Those mere words, were her lifeline.
Yet, today, as she reads the sentence teary eyed, they are just a string of words, that probably don't even make a meaningful sentence. It once reflected promise, now it just reflects a shattered future. Looking at it, used to fill her with courage once, today, it breaks her more n more.
She had never known that the meaning of a sentence can change with subtle bends in the journey of life. She learnt it the hard way.
No, he did not give her up. She gave him up. Rather, she gave in to a certain 'me' in place of a certain 'us'. She hadn't flinched even the slightest while making the replacement, for she had died within, much before doing so.
She had once upon a time, gifted him a string of words, thoughtfuly arranged, conveying a meaning that carried more weight than the words themselves .....
.......and in reply he had gifted her this sentence ... a sentence that had only two words on it.... " Me too."
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Over a cup of tea....
Sitting by his own office and gaping at the window, working up startegies to get past the latest business problem at hand, he probably was the most content man around. He was rich...monitarily, educationally and morally. He had the world at his feet.
It was 10.30 am and it was time for tea. It was his office and tea was served to him at his desk. There was a small tea stall next to the office and a small boy working there as a cleaner would bring it up to his desk. Everyday the boy would knock on the door, carry the hot cup filled to the brim, gingerly, trying his best not to spill and carefully place it on the table. He would then walk away without so much as lift his head. This was routine. Being a busy man, he could hardly bother about a 9 year old cleaner!
Today, something changed. The boy came as always and placed the cup and started to walk away. But he recieved a 'thank you', said matter of factly, in a tone that comes when said without deliberate intent and as a habit. The boy swirled, his eyes lit up and a smile appeared across his face. Turning away from the window, surprised at the sudden movement in the lateral vision, he looked at the little boy and reciprocated the smile.
This was the beginning of a series of smile exchanges which over a period of time led to small talks. Through these talks, he learnt that the boy's parents stayed in the village at the outskirts , that his father is a farmer, he being the eldest of four children works by day adding to the family's income and goes to school by night, that he wants to become a big, rich man when he grows up. The small talks stirred a spirit of charity and he would give petty amounts as 'tip' to the little boy.
The boy looked forward to these one-minute-word-exchanges and would run to the front of the tea stall evey morning and evening to see his new friend arrive and leave office. He once got lucky and actually got a ride in the car. His friend had told him that to be a big rich man, he has to study very hard and be sincere in whatever he chooses to do. And he was determined to do just that!
One fine day, as the boy smilingly placed the cup of tea, he told his friend that his father had asked him to return to the village and help out in the fields, as he could no more afford to keep the boy in the city. His night school would stop, but he would try to find one, close to his village. He still wants to be a big ,rich man. Sadenned by the news, he told the boy, that he was also leaving the city as he was opening a new branch of the office in another place and would have to be there for the next whole year. He then wrote his number on a piece of paper and asked the boy to call him in a month's time and he would arrange for his schooling at his own cost. That was last in the series of one-minute-word-exchanges.
He left the city and his new office was established, but that one phone call he was waiting for never came.
Today as he sits by the window of his new office, the office attendent brings the usual cup of tea. But his tea has stopped tasting ever since that 9 yr old cleaner of the neighbouring tea stall left the city, coz that tea was accompanied by smiles, innocence and dreams....
It was 10.30 am and it was time for tea. It was his office and tea was served to him at his desk. There was a small tea stall next to the office and a small boy working there as a cleaner would bring it up to his desk. Everyday the boy would knock on the door, carry the hot cup filled to the brim, gingerly, trying his best not to spill and carefully place it on the table. He would then walk away without so much as lift his head. This was routine. Being a busy man, he could hardly bother about a 9 year old cleaner!
Today, something changed. The boy came as always and placed the cup and started to walk away. But he recieved a 'thank you', said matter of factly, in a tone that comes when said without deliberate intent and as a habit. The boy swirled, his eyes lit up and a smile appeared across his face. Turning away from the window, surprised at the sudden movement in the lateral vision, he looked at the little boy and reciprocated the smile.
This was the beginning of a series of smile exchanges which over a period of time led to small talks. Through these talks, he learnt that the boy's parents stayed in the village at the outskirts , that his father is a farmer, he being the eldest of four children works by day adding to the family's income and goes to school by night, that he wants to become a big, rich man when he grows up. The small talks stirred a spirit of charity and he would give petty amounts as 'tip' to the little boy.
The boy looked forward to these one-minute-word-exchanges and would run to the front of the tea stall evey morning and evening to see his new friend arrive and leave office. He once got lucky and actually got a ride in the car. His friend had told him that to be a big rich man, he has to study very hard and be sincere in whatever he chooses to do. And he was determined to do just that!
One fine day, as the boy smilingly placed the cup of tea, he told his friend that his father had asked him to return to the village and help out in the fields, as he could no more afford to keep the boy in the city. His night school would stop, but he would try to find one, close to his village. He still wants to be a big ,rich man. Sadenned by the news, he told the boy, that he was also leaving the city as he was opening a new branch of the office in another place and would have to be there for the next whole year. He then wrote his number on a piece of paper and asked the boy to call him in a month's time and he would arrange for his schooling at his own cost. That was last in the series of one-minute-word-exchanges.
He left the city and his new office was established, but that one phone call he was waiting for never came.
Today as he sits by the window of his new office, the office attendent brings the usual cup of tea. But his tea has stopped tasting ever since that 9 yr old cleaner of the neighbouring tea stall left the city, coz that tea was accompanied by smiles, innocence and dreams....
Saturday, November 11, 2006
bestest mommy...
One of the many things that intrigues me about God's creation, is the creation of a mother! What is it that He adds in her being that makes her omnipresent and omnipotent with respect to her offspring? As a daughter, I may never understand, but only wonder!!
It was one of those cold winter mornings, when I felt as grey as the sky was.(Sometimes, it is the weather that determines your mood...the environmental effect!!) It was a regular day when nobody cares what you are feeling, you just need to go about doing your job. There was a feeling of restlessness, despair, an unreasonable worry and it bothered me every minute. I took a deep breath and thought about the status of all perspectives of my life and realised that all was well. There was not one facet that seemed to be weathering the rains, but I still couldn't reason out the worry! When such a thing happens, I usually classify it as ' feeling homesick' ! Well, having come to the conclusion, I decided to call home once I get liberated from the more practical things in life!
Just as that thought occured, my phone rang...it was Ma...! She said she was missing me and wanted to hear my voice. And I was searching for anything that looked like a string jutting out of my body and running into oblivion....the only reasonable way..she could have read my thoughts!! Well..as obvious..I am still looking for that string!!
All mothers have this string and as many strings as the number of children. But I always wondered if this string ran both ways... There are so many instances of a child being able to hear the mother's thought. How come I have never been able to do that? or is it that I did hear and react but never realised my action!
Human beings are selfish....and if there is one facet of human that is selfless...it is definitely a mother!! and like everyone says...my mommy is the best!!
It was one of those cold winter mornings, when I felt as grey as the sky was.(Sometimes, it is the weather that determines your mood...the environmental effect!!) It was a regular day when nobody cares what you are feeling, you just need to go about doing your job. There was a feeling of restlessness, despair, an unreasonable worry and it bothered me every minute. I took a deep breath and thought about the status of all perspectives of my life and realised that all was well. There was not one facet that seemed to be weathering the rains, but I still couldn't reason out the worry! When such a thing happens, I usually classify it as ' feeling homesick' ! Well, having come to the conclusion, I decided to call home once I get liberated from the more practical things in life!
Just as that thought occured, my phone rang...it was Ma...! She said she was missing me and wanted to hear my voice. And I was searching for anything that looked like a string jutting out of my body and running into oblivion....the only reasonable way..she could have read my thoughts!! Well..as obvious..I am still looking for that string!!
All mothers have this string and as many strings as the number of children. But I always wondered if this string ran both ways... There are so many instances of a child being able to hear the mother's thought. How come I have never been able to do that? or is it that I did hear and react but never realised my action!
Human beings are selfish....and if there is one facet of human that is selfless...it is definitely a mother!! and like everyone says...my mommy is the best!!
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