The need manifestation...

A mother sits alone staring blankly at the television. Her children in far off countries are busy in their lives. She calls her best friend after her husband goes for work. The other side of the call is a similar mother. They talk for hours everyday about old memories, about how life had changed; for at least a few hours everyday till late afternoon when she had to go to the kitchen and make something for herself. Then she'd get to televisions serials to fill the emptiness of her life...

Who said happiness resided in a settled life, a two storey home, with kids in good positions somewhere...?

***

A girl calls her childhood friend every now and then. Hiding behind a pretext of sisterly feelings, she can't really explain what she feels for him. Persistent text messages and sweet wordings, something about him filled a void somewhere in her life. Along the years she cant remember having laughed out heartily... A broken heart somewhere along the way, an always complaining mom to prove herself to... Memories of a dad lingering on... A fiance who always suspected her of being with someone else...  She was out to right the labyrinth that had befallen her, trying not to follow her sister's footsteps into divorce, trying to hide from everyone, her perfect life...

She calls him again for some attention, love, care... She knew it wasn't right.

Is it any good trying to tel her that she needed to get a grip over herself? 

***

A guy walks along the sidewalk... The rain drenching him but he doesn't notice the sun going down in practiced bravado, the cars rushing by in herds of confusion... He remembers his girl, every face reminds him of her. Random things in conversations brings her into his mind. He loved her, he had a million reasons why. He tried to treat her right, tried to care, tried to love. He was probably clingy as she was all he had had. He made a few mistakes so she turned and walked away from his life... He goes flirting with others, jumps into relationships, just to fill the void that she's left him with...

Would it be enough to tell him to forget her and move on, though that's the only choice...?

***

A father reaches home after work. There's a grimness about his face. His life was settled, his future secure. He loved his wife, but they never talked more than necessary. They sat by the television, rarely talking or even noticing each other. They never joked or had discussions over the dinner table, even when their children were at home.

What was missing? What was this emptiness that engulfed him as he sat by the tv, puffing a cigarette. 

***

A girl sat by the window sill watching the rain outside. She had parents worried about her marriage and future.  Almost so much that she could feel them breathe down her neck. She never had the freedom to decide what to do, all her life. Someone always drew the line for her and she just walked on abiding to it. The same fate followed her here. She was tired of being single though, with a lot of guys trying to hit on her, all the while being scared that she might fall for someone and be hurt later. She knew she wasn't ready, she never was... How was she gonna find that right person? What if everything went wrong after she got married?

Would someone call her as being overly thoughtful? 

***

A new student walks into the classroom. He tries his best to mingle with everyone, to be frank and open. All the while, the girls brand him a flirt and guys call him a wannabe. He came home everyday over the years wondering why he had to be the odd one out... All the while, all he wanted was just some acceptance...

Would you too say the words that "It takes two hands to clap and make the sound", in a way that something about him was wrong too?  

***

You've probably been there somewhere, along the paragraphs above. We are all needy in our own ways, though we have never been able to bear the needy one's in our life. We often blame people for what they failed to do in their lives, sometimes we just don't understand. Sometimes we just won't try... I guess we've all felt similar things, needed someone to talk to, wished we were someone else so that we could have done things differently, wished that somehow things were different from what it turned out to be...

Does it suffice to pat yourself on the shoulder and say, It's just gonna be alright...? 

                                                                               ***Motivation: Rajiv C. K. Menon

The miles bygone...

           The rain was mighty. But it wouldn’t dampen the spirits of the children running home after school. The elderly stood by the bus stop trying to talk sense into the tiny tots, their cheery faces contorting in reply.I was headed home, after a long while. The home coming of a warrior, or so it felt. I took a few moments to fill my heart with the happiness around me. Buses passed in the lightning speed, yet the kids took no notice. They prefered walking, a single umbrella only partially sheilding a herd of them rushing with glee. The songs they sang weren’t great ones but it seemed like the rain rhymed along, the smell of the freshly wet earth blended in and the cool breeze that made earth just feel like heaven.

                There I was, at a coffee shop, sipping coffee while iron clad asbestos kept the rain from coming in and a warm kerosene lamp birghtened the darkened interiors. I watched the thoughtful elders around me, each in their own world of thoughts, of wants, desires and unfulfilled wishes, of races to win, of families to feed… They had come a long way in life, onrounte to the seven ages as Shakespeare had said…

                Home seemed more than welcome, the rain had stayed all along my journey. I stood by the gates, breathing in the fresh homely air.  Memories hung in from the interiors of home, waiting to cling to me. My presence was known, I could feel it. I could see things left outside by my bro’s little baby who had just recently learnt to walk and loved to hide things in lonely corners of home. I remembered how my dad would take her out to the veranda to show her the rain. She would chuckle as the little drops of rain fell into her hands. She would then look at my dad and smile with glee. And like children, they both would walk around the house, with their own languages to communicate and her tender fist cozy in the warmth of his age hardened hand. She would be delighted in the colour of a leaf, or the smell of a flower, the brightness of the sun shading light into her room in the morning. Sometimes I wonder, over the years as we grew, all that’s happened is that we’ve stopped finding happiness in small things...

The raindrops now bounced around like little rubber balls trying hard to reach me as I sat by the threshold of my home. It was fun to play “catch me if you can” with them. Nothing ever lasted forever, like the rain, like childhood, like the wonderful flowers that brightened my day…

Brevity… Life was always full of it. Maybe because dreams once true lose their charm, maybe because somethings are best left unsaid, some wishes best left unfulfilled…  I thought to myself, as the rain echoed away behind me, “The miles were eternal, not just the miles to come, but the miles bygone… “