going to be just another day for me," I lamented over
a phone conversation, but truly, how much more obvious could
it be when you looked at my week schedule. "Come on..."
"Really, I got lots lined up and I wonder if I will ever
get past these stuffs."
My list of jeremiad fell short when he cut me off saying,
"Look around, there are lots of things you can be a part
of" and then a few seconds later, he argued positively,"your
new year will depend on the way you perceive a new beginning."
Yeah, well. I wish
I had the same optimism and I would get by any situation. Maybe
that is why his life is so different from mine and just maybe that
is why he is a winner. Sometimes I wonder if I can ever lead his
life and many a times I wanted to live his life for just one day....feel
like him, talk like him. There is just something about him that
sets him apart from the rest of us. With his last statement, I sought
to venture a new expedition -- for just one day I will be in his
Morning arrived rather slowly, much to my dismayed anticipation.
By 9, I was ready to mingle with the crowd. At my own pace, I headed
for his house. "He left around 4" so I was informed. I
gasped, speculating what on earth may have happened at a time when
half the world was still asleep.
I rushed to center he volunteered at. It was a charity organization
that worked for the benefit of terminally ill patients. Irrespective
of age, religion, and race, it assisted patients by fulfilling their
earnest desire which would perhaps remain unachieved in the timely
constraints. There was a spasmodic entrance of mixed race patients.
I merely meant to hang around with Aryan while he went about his
usual day, but little did I realize that I was being taken for a
volunteer rather than a visitor. A wan, haggard lady wheeled in.
She went about her usual way in greeting others. When she came to
me, she whispered, "how do you do?" I learnt that at a
very early age, she marveled at the idea of being a singer. Reluctantly,
she embarked a different career but still she lent her voice when
chance permitted, and when she lost her voicebox to cancer, she
cried a tear not so much for&nb! sp;being fraught with sickness
but for losing the ability of doing something that makes her happy.
She resigned to fate, yet she lived on, searching new avenues of
joy. I did spend time talking to her and really strained my ears
to decipher her whispers. I reckoned, she just wandered here as
an audience to nature's symphony.
I loitered around like a vagabond, observing people crossing my
way. A blind boy whimpered while moving in the crowd. He spoke little.
With great effort, I managed to have him just speak, "I lost
"Tell me your name. I'll help you find her." "My
name is Jason Smith, but you can't find her." He retrieved.
All along the
way to the announcement room, I muttered in disgust, "how
can she just lose her son." To my horror, he was right,
I could never find his mother. She had died. I suppose, the
thought of his mother evoked heart wrenching memories which
transformed to the grief heard in his voice. I hoped so much
his sorrow would ease, but what would I know about his true
feelings, I was not him. I strolled silently and stumbled
upon a small faded photograph, seemed like a woman accidentally
dropped it. Behind it imprinted a familiar name accompanied
by a strong 3-word emotion -- we all say it at least once
in our lifetime -- it is called I love you. Yes, I found her
if I was not mistaken, but Jason was nowhere to be seen. I
made a note that if I could not find him, I would hand it
over to Aryan so that Jason could have his mother again.
It was early evening.
I called Aryan to find out how much longer I needed to wait. His
mobile was not reachable. "Okay, another 15 minutes and I'll
go home straightaway" I decided. I moved out of the center
only to find myself walking back in for Jason. I wondered if he
was drowned in his tears. The search began again.
He seated facing the crimson sun with his back resting against a
stump. His eyes were puffy and he choked with feeble tears. He calmed
a little. Gradually, he confided, "my mom would sit next to
me with her arm across my back to the side. She would tell me what
happened through the day. Sometimes she never spoke at all, but
I always felt her with me. This picture is all I have. When I hold
it, I feel I am holding her, and then I tell her what happens through
the day. Sometimes when I have nothing to say, I tell her in my
heart that I love her." "She loves you too," I interrupted.
"How do you know? You never met her." "I know....she
left an I love you note." I flipped the photo in his hands.
At a trice, he wailed like the little child that he is. I hugged
him tight. We spoke no more. A long time later, my mobile beeped.
Aryan came around. Jason got up to leave, hugged me, and said, "pass
it on." A wry smile appeared. Aryan flinged his arms wide open,
"I'm all for it." "Aryan, where have you been? You
know, I've been waiting for you all this while."
"Hey, easy. You could've spent time with them. There are so
many here." Then, he went on to tell me that he had taken little
Rose to Sienna cliff. I learnt she was in the final stage of leukemia.
"She can leave us at any time. I just thought I'd give her
the sunrise and sunset that she longs each day. You know, she simply
loves it, so I spent an entire day with her." He heaved a sigh.
"I'm sorry, hun, I made you wait, but I just had to be with
"Don't worry. The wait was worthwhile." I glanced at Jason
who sat far away, feeling the joy of sunset, holding his mother
in his hands.
The night is slipping away. It is almost 2 a.m. I am awake, thinking
of Jason and hoping he is happy. I am thinking of little Rose, that
each day someone will be able to give her the kind of sunrise and
sunset she wants. I am thinking of Aryan and admiring him for the
little things he strives to do to make each moment different. I
am thinking of you and making a wish that wherever you go, you will
have enough love to give so that wherever you will be tomorrow,
it will find its way back into your heart.
- Hi. I'm working in the healthcare sector in quality assurance.
I'm in Bangalore. I have keen interest in reading, writing, photography,
trekking, and music. I believe that all of us have talent, which,
when used, can make a difference in the world, or at least, in someone's
life. The choice is ours. My writings are usually from personal