Bewitching Black Blind Eyes

Something missing, I realized it quite soon. Hot and humid, the dense rays were crossing the fence of patience. Devotion inside was entangled up by the burning flames of sun. I was standing there waiting for the bus. Cars moving in and out and making crazy, irritating sounds, senses warmed up and vision illusioned. Weather painted the face of people with saltwater. No bird, no creature, only humans moving around with a passive look.

With no voice and utter silence in her appearance she was sitting on the bench alone. Covering her head with a cloth and a stick to mentor her steps. The gracious face had a smile whose reason I was looking for. She was touching the seat next to her again and again, may be in order to touch the one whom she was waiting for. I noticed her moving almost fifty times to find no one there but the smile and divinity was still on the face.

Mesmerized by her Godly Aura and supertemporal patience, I was lost in her silence. The world around her was black but she could see it better than me, feel it better than me. I sat inside the bus but my mind still wondering whom she was looking for. Bus moved and I was fixtured to her.Patience and tolerance was what I was missing and I found it through the vision of blind eyes.

When her Mother Died

There were hundreds of people in her house, her relatives busy in telling others about the loss of a divine soul. Some making arrangements for the last duties to be performed before the dark and her mother lying quietly on the floor like an angel with no wings of life. Not even a single tear in her eye, she was constantly looking at the blue sky. Her aunties forcing her to cry and let it come out else she will go insane, 12 was not the age to lose life.    

I didn't have the courage to hold her and make her feel comfortable, still I went close to her and gave her my hand. She said my mother a devotional singer, who always sang in the name of God and he cheated on her. He is a looser and my mother is a true friend, always did what he wanted and still she died of cancer. She prayed to let go the pain but everyday she gained, Maa didn't stop singing and he didn't stop giving. I lost my savior two years back and now there is nothing left, I am alone. She bowed down to the breathless body, hugged her tightly and gave out loud cries.

Hours later when her mother was in sandalwood fire, she said I am scared about the future. I have no one left and I am a girl. Her relatives decided to let her go with her maternal uncle and stay with them. She said I wish there would have been no childhood in my life. I don’t know what to believe in, the devotion my mother taught me or the truth which I have experienced. I will take the loss with me to understand it more. More or less life is a hidden story which leaves us to think and understand the reason behind the activities and plays, life is all meaningful.

The Most Drunkard Beggar

The sugar syrup was sweeter than ever, sweets were more dark and eye catching. It was the month of festivals and celebration was seen on every face moving around. Winters just started giving a shadow to summers and sun seemed to be brighter and clearer. I was there to buy the sweetest one for my celebrations.

Suddenly a heavy and loud voice hammered my ear drum and moved my attention to the faceless crowd. A man with dirt dark complexion, tattered clothes on some parts of the body was abusing everyone in the crowd and with a move to fall if he takes just one step more. He stopped at a liquor shop and took the coins out of his pocket. Bought a small bottle of mind twisting liquid and drink it all in one go. He was the show stopper for all moving there. One came close to him and in a polite tone asked him to sit, else he may fall. Love and hate had no difference for the dark man. The politeness was pressed hard with the swords of alcoholic words.

The attire was showing the misery and brutality life brought to him. Wearing a part of the sleepers, showing the incompleteness in everything. Holding a long and thick bamboo stick showing the stiffness and rigidity in thoughts. He moved far away from the place abusing everyone, even children and God was not left out. Well he believed in No Discrimination. He might have been touched by the inhuman behavior of us which made him drunkard. His words were begging for life, life with peace which he might never have felt. I learnt to share my part of celebration with others so that I can never get a chance to see “The Most Drunkard Beggar”.

One world under a Blanket

Getting up from bed that morning was a tedious task and everyone avoids it. The clock was ticking loud and even after snoozing, it was moving its arms at pace faster than the blink of an eye. It moved round and round and she decided to get up and brush her up for the money earning activities. She covered herself well to get protected from the arrow shots of winter. Waiting for the bus and stretching the sweater sleeves to make it more cover the naked.

Radio said it was the most chilling day in the North and the temp was down to 3. She huddled to the girl sitting next to her and gave her a warm smile in return of the heat she got. Smile was the only warm thing at that time. Rubbing her hands again and again and transferring the warmth to the ears and eyelids. The smoky roads and hibernating people  gave the same expression of losing themselves to the play of climate. The light was dim and red and so the bus stopped at the view where life was playing with the less experienced and so called Divine Holders.

Three in number and just wearing their skin, loud cries and dull figures were visible. She looked out and her vision was smashed by the scene. From head to toe she could experience the winter arrow pinching her. The naked God’s were trying to make a fire there and were collecting the papers from the filth to cover their body. Fog covered the eyes of the people passing by, nothing was noticed, nothing was felt. Well they might also be living in the hell of their own creation. And here the God himself was not even wearing Gold. She cried and wanted to hug them. Let the God feel the love Humans carry for him. She remained silent and unmoved, didn’t donate anything as it was not meant to be. She got the message how fortunate she was to wear something at a place where even God move naked. Since then she has been bringing the world of naked under the blanket of Warm Love. Inside, we all are naked not to see the God crying and dying of winter, not to even let the fire be made to save him. Spread the blanket to move all under it. The message was a silent game of winter shots.