The yearnings and desires of them..depict a story !!

      Everyday I walk through the same road, same path, same red lights, same crowd, same stores.. the only thing which actually differs from all this is 'the expressions, the reactions' of those people who catch my eye.
Just like my everyday life my road to my education has been the same, yet I notice that every morning 'he' has a different gesture to work with..
Every morning exactly at 7:30am I reach the station, and he would be standing there counting the few dollars he earns in one single day by selling newspapers. Next to him would be his tiny chair, on which he keeps his bag, a few bundles of extra newspapers and on the ground is the reading matter for public while he stands waiting for the papers to be sold. He is about a 65 year old man, fair in color, medium height. He is always there on time, with an elated face as if there is no sun setting in his sunshine life. He seems to be a solitary senior citizen, who sells newspapers for his living. Every single day, I would notice him there in a silent tone of morning, gazing at that man; perceiving a contrast from normal news sellers. There is a saccharine smile on his face, a different texture of his felt satisfaction, which I discern as happiness. He seems so content with whatever he earns. So jolly as if his few dollars bring a delight to his eyes. It gives me valuable peace when I look at that heart filling smile and believing that these people have a precious reason to live for..
 - simply smiling over their hard work, realizing that their hard work is worth a million dollar smile. And it actually is, precisely the amount of happiness he gets from not just by selling his newspapers, but a different perception to 'smile' which he concisely comprehends and most of us don't. Those tiny things which should be a bliss, often develop a sense of agony within us whereas these people find ecstasy and euphoria even in every ephemeral matter.


Story (2)

     The other day, I was travelling on the bus, when I noticed that this one woman seemed fearful. She had a blunt shadow reflected which got me pensive and I figured that she had pain in her eyes. Her vision seemed agonizing, depicting that she feared something she could not talk about. She even feared the person sitting next to her. I understood that when she shook being lost when the person sitting next to her had accidentally hit her. The woman's eyes were filled with water; it felt as if she wanted to convey something.. a story..something which was a burden on her.
She hadn't left yet.. she was still on the bus on a next seat ahead of me. I was noticing her.. I caught a sense of violence, scar, a vibe which could not be defined. I felt that she couldn't breathe. There was something which was bothering her, as if she was breathing her last moment while she knew he would shot her down. It was ambiguous, a vague depicture of unborn sentiment. I hadn't given up. I was there trying to understand her emotion, yet I got a part of the major. I had understood that she was in pain. She needed someone, a pal perhaps to convey or share her story with. Yet I was not one of them...She got up, looked back at me..
Moved ahead
.. I stood up, walked to her.. and I somehow realised that she.. - she faded in mist..


    She disappeared out of nowhere, when I evaluated that she was an empty,solitary soul, in the form of a human looking for companionship.. But I.. I still failed to reach her.. 

© Latika Sareen