Solitude

She spots him from the window of the coffee shop and looks at him with great interest. His visual inspires a million thoughts in her and they bring along with them some deeply buried memories of school days. Her mind conjures up poems she had committed to memory. Sometimes she wonders if those many things that she'd heard and read in the past come back to her by themselves, haunting her present or if she has this psychic ability to connect dots and make profound sense out of random and utterly ordinary sights that cross her mind.

Behold her, single in the field, 

Yon solitary Highland Lass! 

Reaping and singing by herself; 

Stop here, or gently pass! 

Alone she cuts and binds the grain, 

And sings a melancholy strain; 

O listen! for the Vale profound 

Is overflowing with the sound. 

Bits and pieces of 'The solitary reaper' seem to fit into the sight before her - the old man, with his wares and words, sitting by the sidewalk and lost in his crossword puzzle, firmly there, but oblivious in his thought, immersed in the mundane task of making a living, but living his life all the same. She makes up stories  around him - he probably has very supportive kids that are begging him to give up his toil and retire, or he has no kids at all and is supporting himself? - The many tales that she weaves around him entertain her while she gets lost in the intensity of the man’s concentration on the task ahead of him.  This Dusty little pavement doesn’t hold a candle to the Scottish highlands nor does the task of selling inexpensive hoisery parallel  with reaping a harvest amid soul stirring nature, but she somehow sees the visual in poetic perfection. The eyes of the beholder, they say - and she senses a strange pride in the way her eyes present to her angles to the soul of her universe.

Picture courtesy - Dhiren Shah. 

Evasion

She glides around her day like a superwoman, juggling work and home like an ace. She doesn't even realize how much she accomplishes being a multi-tasker, for her focus is never on herself but on the job ahead of her. This morning, she sits in her cubicle a little too long, gazing at the art work her son made for mother's day. Mackerel clouds almost shaped like a fish and a caption amid them reading "I love you to the sky and back" She smiles as she tries to settle the unrest in her heart and spine. Somethings bother her to no end...they get under her skin. She, being the gentle soul, always disregards her discomforts to accommodate others. A blunt pain keeps at her lower spine and she shuts her eyes to ease it, trying to convince herself to ignore the twinge in the vertebrae. "I am absolutely fine" she reassures herself - this phrase comes handy every time she encounters a strain, be it physical or emotional. These words let her spread out her boundaries, rising her threshold for the many afflictions of life - Broken promises, disappointments, insults, deceits, heartbreaks - "I am absolutely fine" is the one magic pill of words that cures all her worldly ailments. She reflects upon the many encroachments on her soul and quickly shuts them off. For nothing qualifies as a hurt if you tell yourself it isn't - fib your way through the hindrances of life with the magical four letters " I am absolutely fine"

Today the talisman isn't working. The caffeine isn't working either. Her pain in the spine resonates with the unaddressed, often ignored pain in the heart. She doesn't give up easily. She tries to deep breath and meditate on the drawing her son made - looking at her insides as scales of unhealed wounds denied with vehemence. But today she decides differently.

"I am not fine" she makes an admission at last. I need a break. She quickly grabs her purse and steps out to finally address those scales long ignored, to nurse that back ache and heart ache. Because she discovers that the worst kind of lies are the lies we tell ourselves.

Picture Courtesy - Chaitanya Kanni

Unfinished

They were meant to be, that bound souls were supposed to meet, to fill in some craters, some petty dents sustained while lost in the woods of life. Those kindred spirits were to dwell here upon the weirdness of existence. They were supposed to catch up or complain - to bare it all without filters, so the other could collect their gripes and somehow stretch them around and soothe them into acceptance. They were to look through the view, contemplating upon their challenges, to seek counsel and provide solace. They were to laugh till they cry and then cry some cause they have to do that too, to somehow flush out the frozen heartaches. They were supposed to thrive in each other's company, lending a shoulder to lean upon, or the much needed ear - cause what are intense emotions worth unless they are shared with someone? That laughter, those tears, those hopes and fears - they all need an audience or a witness to coax those feelings into everlasting smiles or bearable burdens.

It was meant to be. But it might not be....cause sometimes they are too busy. Sometimes one of them might exit unannounced. Sometimes they might consider it a bit too much or plan it to an exhaustion that plonks at execution. Cause sometimes, they might lose their plot or just be so caught in their conceptions or lack there of that they might never cross the road or even meet the other mid way, or worse yet, they might nurse a miscommunication tad much and smother their empathy to non existence.

Here's the silence, clad in emptiness,  mourning all those unrealized 'Meant to Bes.'

Picture courtesy - Dhiren Shah. Wildernest, Chorla.

Genuine

Eva gets a call from the same number for the umpteenth time, a number she cannot recognize. She picks it up wondering if it is an important call that shouldn't be missed. "Hello" a female voice responds. "How are you Eva? I had been trying to reach you for long to say thanks" the voice continues. Eva places the exotic accent. "Oh hello there Sana" She greets cheerfully. "Why do I need to be thanked?" she wonders aloud. "For my job recommendation" Sana replies.

Eva experiences a blanked out moment. She recollects recommending Sana to a trainee opening in a friend's work place months ago. It paid a meager stipend but Sana was looking to get back to work after a long hiatus. "I am so sorry" she manages. I never knew you got a placement there. It wasn't a big deal. I found about the trainee position and thought about you. Glad you fit right in" She sounds very happy for Sana.

"May I come by tomorrow to see you?" Sana asks. "I would like to say thanks in person" 

"I would love to see you, but hey, there's nothing much to thank here. I am sure they loved you enough to offer you a permanent position" 

"But I was there in the first place because you cared to recommend me" Sana insists. They have a chuckle about this blame game and decide to meet the next day.

Sana shows up with a vase of white buttercup roses, luscious and lively. "I know you are a nature lover, but I had to buy you something that didn't die the moment I turn my back on you. I want you to look at these silk flowers and remember me as often as you can" she quips. 

"Look at them...how natural they look" Eva offers genuine praise. Besides white is my favorite color. It fits so well into my shabby chic living space" 

They catch up on life. Eva remembers how Sana, in their last meeting months ago, comes to pay for some medicines she got her from a friend's apothecary, though Eva keeps telling her that it was a chicken feed of an amount and she shouldn't bother. Sana relates a Burmese fable to Eva about the Owl, crow and koel. When owl gets hurt, he seeks help from crow. Crow knows of koel that treats ailments and takes his friend owl to her. Koel suggests a remedy that cures the owl and asks for her payment. Owl promises to pay it later and crow vouches for the owl. Later when it is time to pay, the owl refuses to pay the koel. As a result, crow ends up repaying his friend's dues by tending to koel's eggs.

"I don't want to ever be like the owl" Sana adds, and make someone pay for my dues no matter how small. Eva smiles and accepts the money, won over by how Sana thinks through the minutest of things and puts a wonderful perspective to them. It is these little things that Sana does that makes Eva get a sense of the person Sana is....Honest, considerate, reliable and very thoughtful. Eva kind of senses why Sana is so readily welcomed into the work space. She feel certain that Sana does bigger things with as much love and care as she does the smaller ones.

After the ladies catch up on their lives, Sana takes leave, thanking her again and apologizing yet again for not bringing her real flowers. They both joke and laugh over the matter and part ways.

Eva places the flowers on her whitewashed coffee table. The sunlight filtering through the windows hit the petals and lend them a grace only light could lend. They look lit from within...She admires them, gently stroking on the lush lifelikeness of the buttercups. From where she sees it, a gesture of gratitude couldn't be any more heart touching than these beauties she's feasting her eyes upon.

"Blessed are the ones that give without remembering, Blessed are the ones that get without forgetting" Her dad's favorite quote rings in her ears as she spends a moment devouring the wee joys of life.