"Glimpse" - A glorious Soul-Play

It was the month of December, the weather was pleasant and everybody around looked light-hearted. Schools were closed for winter holidays; the sight of kids running down the streets with their petite frame being wrapped in thick bright colored woolen dresses was a feast to eyes.

 Though the winters in Bangalore aren’t that harsh, it got colder during evenings. I was out to just see if I could get some interesting facts for my write-up. The winter clearance sale attracted people from all age-groups. As I passed by one of the store, I noticed a lady with a shopping cart full of clothes waiting restlessly for her turn. She must have been in her early 70’s or late 60’s. She was wearing a white cotton churidhaar with a blue and red tie and dye patterned stole. A medium-built lady with a shoulder length hair-cut. She looked disappointed standing in the line for such a long time and it also seemed like she was waiting for someone else to join her. It was almost 8pm in the evening and I realized that the hunger acids in my stomach acted up. I went to a nearby eat-out to order my all time favorite, hot samosas with spicy green chutney. 

The hawker handed-over a coupon with a number indicating that I wait for my turn. The number was 28 and I waited patiently but it seemed like my turn never came even after a 30 minute wait. As I approached him, he signaled me to wait for another 10 more minutes. Finally, my turn arrived and as I stretched my hand to grab the plate, the samosas were in the air; someone else had taken it. I was almost in tears; it felt like someone had snatched a vital organ from my body. I was totally disappointed and almost mad with rage looked at the person who had stolen my samosas. A medium built person in his late 20’s or early 30’s with a radiant vision and a lovely stylized beard stood in front of me with a lovely smile; it felt like I knew him since ages, my soul was on the dance floor letting itself free.

I stood mesmerizing and almost had forgotten about the samosas until he walked up to me and met my gaze. He again smiled very humbly and said, I beg your pardon, my aunt suffers from diabetes and she was craving to have samosas, I had no choice but to snatch the next order else she would collapse. My heart had woven a fabric of abuses to shower on the samosa-thief but he had swept me off my feet with his presence. I just smiled approving the act without breaking the eye-contact and took my plate and walked away quietly. It looked like he was baffled by the response but he was successful in camouflaging it, I was equally surprised by my response but just let it be. I looked back to see if he was still hanging around as I smiled to myself with glee. 

As I walked down the street with the lovely memories, my eyes went back to the waiting lady and this time she was with a gentle-man having a gala time eating an ice-cream that dripped till her elbow. She caught me off-guard noticing her and as we exchanged smiles; the man with her turned around; my heart skipped a beat again. 

“Trance was the state of mind; enchanting was the spirit; a special soul you were, amidst the common people was to be found and that was the destiny”

Glimpse - "The Most BEAUTIFUL Illusion"

No other song can be as meaningful and melodic as the tune heard from the soul within; as tender as a new-born infant, my heart was happy dancing to the rhythm of my soul. I waited for my next assignment; and this time I was visiting a cancer home.

It was a bright Monday morning, getting late to the shuttle was a usual thing for me–I ran, not to exercise but to reach office on time, a neighborhood lady, rather a hawk waited to mock at me for the wonderful work-out I carried out without fail dressed impeccably and formally. Though my brain ran the “IGNORE” command, my heart always waited to feel bad. I always missed the shuttle and ended up in a taxi or a rickshaw asking the driver to compete with the speed of light despite running as swift as a cheetah. Most of the drivers understood my plight but some are always a hard-nut to be cracked.

My work was my passion; no restrictions as long as I was ethical. It brought me to the worlds of different people from various walks of life. I worked as a columnist for one of the leading news-papers and my assignment was to gather news from special homes and NGOs. Visiting orphanages, rehabilitation centers and old-age homes was part of the assignment. Visiting orphans, old-people and homeless was not an easy job at all, but the lessons learnt are beyond explanation. At times, I got carried away with the emotions but slowly I had learnt not carry the baggage with me.

Days went by and I had a cancer home visit pending under my bucket. For the first time, I felt a little uncomfortable yet, I masked it with super-excitement. Unknowingly, I had delayed visiting this place and it was strange.

It was a Wednesday morning; cold breeze ran down my spine as I sat in the car. I rolled the windows up and asked the driver to turn-off the radio. The driver reluctantly pressed the button till the Radio Jockey went mute. I chose to ignore and drowned in my thoughts of imagination about the place I was going to.

The car stopped at an old building, which resembled the Gothic architecture from the medieval period. I looked at the card to reconfirm the address before I paid the fare. The driver rushed even before I was completely out of the car and immediately turned on the radio. I smiled as I looked up admiring the building I was walking into. The building had a huge wooden gate with a top-mounted latch and a guard who greeted people with a warm smile and a visitor register. As I walked in, I noticed a well-maintained tall building with stone cladding on one side that stood between a lovely garden of tulips and roses blooming in glee inviting the bumble-bees to kiss them.

What a contradiction it was; it was one of the most beautiful illusions I was experiencing. It was a palace that had seen the most painful tears and the dreadful agony of the cancer victims yet, it gleaming with happiness. As I explored the place, a lovely piece of sculpture of a mother holding her baby tight to her bosom and caressing it caught my sight.

 The mother wore a white saree, her hair was let loose and it covered one of her eyes and her fore-head was smeared with vermilion. The baby’s face was fragile; the cheeks resembled a tiny ball of snow with traces of saffron lines, wrapped in a sky blue towel, his tiny hands and feet were hanging in the air with his neck turned to the right. I could not wait anymore to know who the artist was; I bent down to read the artist’s name and the world came to still

 “In the fond memory of my son” ………………………..

“The glimpse of yours at once caught my sight, what an awesome artistry I thought; until I reached the foundation to realize the ugly truth that lay beneath the beautiful master-piece that stood.

"Glimpse" - Stranger - - - "Strange Bonding" - "

I woke up with a jolt; With traffic in Bangalore becoming totally annoying; I was too surprised to reach the railway station quite a bit early. The driver looked like he had a bad fight with his wife for some reason and I did not want to bother him further with the questions; I just paid the fare and got down with my luggage and started walking towards the ticket counter. Fortunately, it was not all that crammed. I stood in front of the counter and wondered where I really wanted to go to. The person inside the counter was already getting restless; I looked at him and asked when was the next earliest train for any destination be possibly arriving. 

The guy immediately positioned me as just another case in the list of lost-minds he had experienced in his tenure. He took a deep breath and said, Next train is to Mangalore, 5 seats remaining, do you want the tickets? The ticket landed into my hands even before I finished nodding my head. I picked a water bottle and boarded the train. I prayed that I get a window seat and it seemed like God heard me. I settled down with some music and my scribbling-pad. I was consumed by a lot of thoughts until a million-dollar toothless smile caught my attention.

Only then I realized that my fellow passengers was an old couple. The man looked really charming and he got down at every station to help his lady with snacks and tea and every time she thanked him he smiled and hugged her passionately. I only thought that such love existed only in fairy tales but experiencing it for the first time made me feel really good.

Hours went by, my ears ached and my eyes begged for some rest. I looked outside the window and it seemed like the moon did not want to leave my side. The starlit sky looked like my mom’s black saree with a thousand polka dots. I was almost falling asleep when I realized that a pair of eyes yearned for my attention. I looked back and it was the old-man; he sat right beside me, it felt a little awkward but I somehow managed to smile. I wondered why he was awake yet when his love was snoring away to glory. He soon came closer to me and whispered in my ears; it took almost half a minute for me to understand that he was asking me for the lower berth. His eyes shone brighter than all the stars in the sky; I could not deny. I agreed and  let him have the lower berth.

The old man was relieved and he told me that he lived in Mangalore with his  wife and had traveled all the way to Bangalore for his grand-son’s funeral with uncontrollable tears rolling down his sagging cheeks. There was a great sense of gratitude in his eyes as he held my hands in his. He said, I had to wait for almost a week to let my eyes free themselves with the weight they carried and I found you.  

The old man closed his eyes while he still muttered about his grand-son’s death. He was not a friend, not an acquaintance absolutely a stranger to me; I was baffled at the degree of connection I felt with the old-man. Unknowingly, I shed tears too looking at the plight of the couple.

I woke up with a touch of something as soft as a fur that brushed my hair and a feeble voice calling me with cute names. As I opened my eyes, the old-couple with trembling hands stood in front of me with a cup of hot coffee and an ear-ear smile. The lady was smiling and this smile was very different from the one I had noticed last night. This smile of hers had life in it now and the old-man gleamed with joy. We spoke for an hour before our stations arrived. I helped the old couple with their baggage till the taxi. The old-man hugged me tight once again before we bid good-bye I smiled and waited till their taxi moved far away from my scope of vision and turned back to find a taxi for myself. As I walked away from them……...........

“Years of acquaintance is what I felt from a single touch of yours, impression you left on my heart was perpetual. Soon, I shall meet you with the lessons called experiences I learn in the journey of  my  
“LIFE”.......