Sunday, June 27, 2010

Unnoticed Tourniquets

It wasn’t an ordinary day, indeed. As I sank into a seat somewhere below the sky, as it had always served one or any other person, I was made aware, once again, of many an omen that suggested something divine, something supernaturally natural.

Out of the hectic ghostly life where we have intentionally or unknowingly become the evils of each other, pulling each other for a damn ‘me and mine’, I happened to realize how insignificant we have considered things as. My cell phone buzzed once a sudden.
I simply didn't care.
I can produce my own leisure time just to indulge in what I enjoy doing and that was what I was doing – observing each petty detail around me which, without having an air of importance, could actually mean something. But, the hush and rush around is always there to obstruct my way. In no time, I was surrounded by grubby figures.

“Bhok lagyo, paisa dinus na,” begged all the voices over and over again.

I handed over the only coin in my pocket to one of those hands. And I smiled.
Closer came the others with a more intense look. Was I scared? I don’t know. But, there was something I didn’t fail to notice, an indefinable hope sparkling in those eyes and my ears did their job too; I could hear coins jingling in their pockets, assuring myself they weren’t desperate. It didn’t take me even a second to realize how God has set ways for everyone, children of only six or seven and look how they can convince you by their innocence! There’s a power God has fueled in those poor creatures and I like to call it divine.

I headed off from the seat and wandered along the streets, at times smiling on account of what I deduced from expressions of people passing by. Everybody else worrying about their stuff and I was worrying about why others worried about everything.

A tall, slim figured lady, with her loosely curled hair playing over her shoulders, attracted my attention as I wondered how looks conceal age. Her appearance visibly spoke for her that she was a French woman. Most of all, it was her accent that confirmed my assumption. Her eyes looked lost and her lips as if about to utter it.

“Excuse me, which road…uh…way…go…uh…leads to Tamail?” she stammered.
“On your right,” I instantly replied and consciously translated, “Thamel est sur votre droite.”

Her expression, like a vivid sparkle across her face, conveyed how delighted she was to hear somebody reply her in French.
“Merci bien” she thanked.
“Avec plaisir, madame.”
“A co-incidence, perhaps that the befuddled French lady, fortunately happened to find no one else save a person, who knows few basics of French language, to ask for direction,” I said to myself, “Or simply, God’s way of helping her.”
It was noon by then; I could feel the sun being harsher by every passing moment. I decided I should probably settle somewhere for the day instead of walking all day. Just a feet or two away, an old lady with a heavy looking rucksack was trying to get to the other side of the road and helping her was a little kid covered in dirt and torn clothes, her grand-child most probably. The kid was not a good guide, I must say. Dense wrinkles took distinct shapes round her eyes every few seconds – she was straining her eyes too hard just to know old age had taken over her, and the little lad by her side would take a step forward, motion her for the same and in no time, he would pull her back along with himself; he looked totally confused. I could judge that wasn’t going to work out, but before I could take few quick strides to help them, the lad had already decided to make the journey.

The next moment, I heard the child cry, “Aama…”

She mumbled something none, not even herself, would be able to figure out. Maybe she meant to curse her eyes, the old age. And maybe also the one who she has worshipped her entire life. But, it was just a slip of feet on one of the potholes of the road.

“A necessary accident to save them from worse,” I thought for had they taken a few steps more, they would have inevitably been crushed by the continuous number of motorbikes being roughly driven by reckless teenagers racing with one another for a damn show-off, whose speed appeared so out of limit that I couldn’t even capture the colour of the bikes.

“Another co-incidence, huh?” I smiled at the sky.

With the sun glittering as warmly as it could and hunger kicking me inside, my muscles refused to carry me any longer. So, I got in a micro to get back home. It wasn’t any of the planned systematic days of my life, yet I couldn’t help love the flow of events, all owing to the great realization of the day. Obviously, I was constantly smiling.

“Hey!” Somebody pat on my back. Looking over my shoulders, I found one of my friends back from the school days, smiling at me as if it was the greatest joys of his life, No wonder it actually was a pure joy, especially when we hardly have time to give a ring to our long time out of sight friends and family, as if nothing else counts as much as “my work, my schedule, my mood…”
Memories revived, we had a good talk, a good laugh not for so long though. Because we had our own destinations. He offered to pay my fare, I insisted I would. But, he was fast.
“Shit!” I sighed, as my hands inside my empty pocket searched in vain. By that time, he had already gotten off; however I managed to wave a normal good-bye.
“Gosh! I’ve been roaming around without a damn coin!”
“Thank God, he paid my fare too.”
“Oh, yeah, THANK GOD! That was even more angelic.”
One more reason to smile. Never had I been so content about everything.
“Took a day off for good,” I said to myself, “But, the classes today?” An evanescent worry passed across my head.
“Perhaps you’ve made your not-so divine looking but, actually divine arrangements for that too, haven’t you?”
No one replied but, I could sense Him winking His eyes.

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