Running away

It’s because I’ve been loved that I’ve become stronger

I was disappointed to see that my regular bench in this station was already taken. Actually I was a bit early than my usual time. I had a lot of things on my mind so since morning I had just wandered around the town before ending up here.

We were studying world wars last week in my history class. You know what I observed? Of two thousand years of human history, I don’t think a single year has passed by without a war going in some parts of the world. I guess over the years us humans have been perfecting the art of killing each other. It was basically a peace propaganda done by schools to reduce fist fights in school premises. When I read about wars and battles, in many cases I find it amazing how they can give away their lives as if they were giving loose change to a homeless person. When a person commits suicide, at least they are doing it for themselves even if their reasons are sometimes downright dumb. Can an idea, can a feeling, can an emotion be so strong that one can give away life for the sake of others? Perhaps there is huh!

My history teacher stopped me in the hallway to have an idle chit chat. She wanted to know why I am always alone and have a faraway look in my eyes. Tell me is it really possible to read those things in someone’s eyes? It’s simply a guessing game I believe. She said I need to feel good about myself and start to appreciate myself a little. That bugged me a lot you know. First of all I don’t know what qualities I have. Secondly, if I did have some qualities, how would I know if they are good or bad? It’s possible that what is good to me might not be good to others. I didn’t tell my teacher all of this, but I told that nerd from my class when I met her after school for a game of Weiqi. I don’t hate myself or anything, but I don’t see anything great about me either. Right and wrong are so dependent on a person’s perception. Last year I convinced my older cousin to give me a cigarette. I had academic exposure to cons of smoking. I still wanted to try it and look cool for a change. I tried a cigarette, coughed a great deal and gave up smoking after four puffs. In the end, the smell it left in my mouth wasn’t worth any tones of coolness that I might acquire with a cigarette in my hand. I never considered that smoking is a wrong thing to do. Wouldn’t that contribute to the list of bad qualities?

We bought a snack right outside the school. My nerdy friend complimented the man who prepared the snack. The guy was blushing listening to her praise. I agree that the snack he made was very tasty, but I really didn’t know why she made such a big deal out of it. I rarely see anyone appreciating food eaten on roadside shops. Hell, I don’t remember complimenting my mom for a meal. She gave me reasons for her action.

“That man stands here for hours hoping that he would sell everything he has got for the day. For people like him, livelihood is quite tough. I liked the snack that he made, so I complimented him. He knows that he makes good snacks from the fact that we buy from him everyday. But what makes him truly happy is when he hears that he prepares them really well. We come across so many people in our day to day lives who contribute to our lives in their own small way. Snack vendors, garbage collectors, news paper delivery man, milk man, electricians and so on. We pay for their services of course, but with them being there, our lives have become a little easier. If I am happy with their services, then I tell them that they have done a good job. Acknowledge and appreciate any good thing that comes your way. The person responsible would be truly satisfied.”

I hadn’t really thought about it this way you know.

“One cannot find out the good qualities in herself of himself. It doesn’t work that way. A person can truly believe that they possess a certain quality, when they are told by someone else. Yes, that’s why your friend appreciates all nameless faces with whom you interact quite frequently. When you are doing a job, your salary is not a reward. It’s a payment for your services, skill and time. The real reward is when someone pats on your back and says, ‘That was a job well done mate!’ Humanity is truly amusing in this factor. No matter how powerful a man becomes, a sincere compliment would make him feel humble. No one in this world is too busy to acknowledge someone’s work. Perhaps that would be the lamest excuse ever!

You feel good about yourself when someone tells you first that they like you. By liking you, they are accepting you the way you are; with your flaws. Do you know what kind of a powerful feeling that is to know that no matter what your short comings are, there are some people around you who like you just the way you are? Most kids experience that kind of affection from their parents and relatives. As they grow up, things get less verbal and somehow everyone expects things to be understood in a subtle way. When there is no open expression of appreciation, it’s hard to believe if that feeling really exists. I like you. This is not an act of sympathy. I am just expressing what I feel. You are somewhere in between how it is and how it should be. That makes you a pretty tough nut to crack.

So, I gather she must have told you that she likes you by now. ”

Shut up.

Next Week: It’s because I know that life is a luxury, I prefer to live it rather than spending it.

Labels: Original fiction - Series

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It’s because I know that one should choose either to change or to die, I prefer to change.

I came to the station this Wednesday you know. I came here with my childhood friend. Last week my mom ran to his mom in the supermarket and they decided that their children have to meet. I asked that guy to meet me in this station. I was feeling so weird to come here on a day which was not a Saturday. There weren’t many people around and it was quite peaceful at that time. If he was very surprised at the choice of my meeting place, he didn’t show it. I remember him from my younger days. He was this short little kid always jumping in the class to answer a question that teacher had asked. We used to walk home everyday from school. He was my first best friend. But I was really disappointed when I met him. I know people change. I know changes are inevitable. I even know that perhaps twenty years down the line I would fail to acknowledge the fact that I was border line suicidal in my younger days. But knowing things never really heal the hurt when you feel everything has changed. Perhaps that hurts the most; even after knowing that change is inevitable we still fail to accept things. I was not disappointed in what he did. I was disappointed because of what he didn’t do. It’s strange isn’t it? We humans are this way. Instead of appreciating what is good in a person, we first see what is not there in a person. Isn’t that the reason why so many Jews died in that holocaust? They didn’t die because they where Jews. They died because they weren’t something else. Last week I told you about that nerdy girl from my class right? Well yesterday she just came to me and asked me if I can play ping pong with her. Even before my brain processed what she was talking about, I heard her mutter that I should welcome changes. She just dragged me to the table and shoved a ping pong bat in my hands and we started playing. Then she said it.

“I cannot see you slip away into some kind oblivion. Even an eccentric idiot like you deserves a break. I don’t know if your problem is in your perception of things or it’s your inability to change. Perhaps you are the only kid in this class who hasn’t changed since we joined this institution. It’s a comforting thought that there are some things and some people around us always remain the same. Like a scenery. I don’t want you to be scenery.

Just like life, change happens too. You need to accept it and move on. Sometimes changes are good, but sometimes they are not; like humans. They way you co-exist with both good and bad people, in the same way you have to live with both good and bad changes. You know I’ve always imagined a perfect life for me when I was a little girl. To grow up into a beautiful girl, get noticed, impress people, get good grades, go to nice college, get awesome job, raise a family and so on. I could achieve some of those things. I am smart; I get good grades and perhaps will get into a life college. But when everyone sees me, they see a plain nerd, no life and loser sort of girl. Some years back I told this to my mom and she told me that may be I had to change myself. I took her words literally and changed my appearance, the way I talk, the way I walk; everything. Everyone in my class mocked at me. Why wouldn’t they? One day they saw a nerd and the next day they saw the same nerd acting like a fool. No one accepts drastic changes. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t happen. I went back to being nerd. Looking pretty all the time is a tough job and I wasn’t cut out for it. There is no need to change yourself because you feel pressurized by your surroundings. And there is no need to suppress a change either, because like life, change happens; whether you like it or not.”

I am not sure what she got out of that time nor do I know what I got out of it. But I know for sure that I am going to remember the time I spent with her for a very long time. I wouldn’t say forever because like stability, forever doesn’t exist.

“When will I get to meet her?”

Soon.

Next Week: It’s because I’ve been loved that I’ve become stronger.

Labels: Original fiction - Series

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It’s because I know that if I can be emotionally hurt by one person, then I can be healed by another

“You seem happy today.” The rich baritone of the station mused. Yes, I sported a small smile today. I had come to like the time I spent in this station. It was the usual Saturday crowd and even the heavy downpour didn’t seem to faze people. Well, that’s life isn’t it? Missing the things that you had once loved and adored but let go of them for something stupid or something totally lame; like replacing an old home recipe with junk food. I start explaining the reason for my pleased look.

Do you know which kind of people I dislike the most? The ones who watch one kid getting bullied by another, bystanders who simply walk away when a person is hurting another person intentionally. Have you heard of bystander syndrome? It’s a theory about people who witness a crime and still do nothing about it thinking someone else might help. When I was young I thought other kids were scared to help the kid who was getting bullied because they were scared. They were scared that if they helped the kid in trouble, then the class bully might come after them next. I guess I was scared for the same reason too. As I got older, there were still bullies around me only I could see them outside the school too. They came in all shapes and sizes and were present everywhere; supermarkets, offices, bus, train, department store. Last week a guy from my class was bugging me and to avoid any unnecessary confrontations, I just kept quiet and took his crap. Most of the students minded their own business not because they wanted to get into trouble with this guy but because they particularly didn’t care. But there is this girl in my class who is kind of a nerd, came up to this guy and shouted at him to leave me alone. She literally dragged me without waiting to watch that guy’s reaction which I am pretty sure matched mine. My jaw was literally attracting flies and I had forgotten to blink for couple of minutes. I knew that the next time the guy sees me, he is going to lay it worse than before, but I didn’t give a damn because at that moment, someone cared for me. Do you know what kind of an exhilarating feeling that is? It made me happy. I have come to believe that something as simple as a human touch could heal deepest of the wounds. The thought of another person reacting because of my hurt, made me feel nice and important and for a change, it made me feel wanted. Well, after the girl dragged me out we didn’t necessarily have a “heart-to-heart” talk, did any “getting-to-know-each-other” act. She just glared at me and asked me to grow a spine and stand up to myself and departed from my presence in a huff. After couple of days I saw here sprawling under a tree. She said that people like me existed so that people like her, that is, the bystanders could live peacefully. She made me sound like a Greek tragic hero, but it left lot of unsettling thoughts in my mind. What do you think?

“Have you heard of Joshua Bell? He is a famous violinist, a child prodigy and carries a $3.5 million violin. Early January this year, he played in Washington DC subway during morning rush hour. Do you know how much money he collected by playing violin in one hour? Just $32. When he gives performances, the starting range of the tickets would be nearly $100. So why is that, such a famous musician didn’t manage to capture the attention of the people with his great music? It’s definitely not because the people didn’t care. People care for music. People care for creativity. People care about other people. But you know with so many things going on in their lives, they just don’t make these things as a priority that’s all. They are always in a rush to be somewhere, to do some things and to be someone. Nothing is as important as our lives isn’t it? You didn’t help the kid getting bullied because you were scared that the bully might come after you if you intervened. We care about ourselves more than we care about anything or anyone else. For a bully, being in control of others gives insulation to his/her own insecurities, for a bystander it’s ignoring that keeps them in a comfort zone. It’s natural and it’s instinctive; but that doesn’t mean to say that it’s the right thing to do.

This station has seen its share of fair amount of suicides. You know something funny about the people who committed suicide? Before they jumped in front of the train, they followed every traffic rule to keep themselves safe to come here all the way from wherever they were. Once coming here, they walked to the opposite platform using the stairs. They could have simply walked between the tracks right? They were going to die anyway. But you see, this human mind acts strange sometimes. People don’t die until and unless they want to and exactly the way they have pictured it. Till that moment of throwing themselves in front of the train, they love themselves the most. No matter how much you want to be like someone or how much you envy someone’s popularity, you don’t wish to be that person. You wish to see yourself in that person’s place. And your friend is right. You are the kind of person who brings peace to others. Do you know how amazing that is?”

I don’t know about amazing, but I sure feel like a Greek tragic hero; the one who goes mad in the end.

Next Week: It’s because I know that one should choose either to 'change' or to 'die', I prefer change.

Labels: Original fiction - Series

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It’s because I know that I can be scared at times, gives me courage to face difficulties

It’s Saturday and I am back at railway station. I actually wanted to come to this station today. I find the same bench that I sat on last week empty and rush towards that seat. I don’t want anyone else to beat me to that bench. There are some kids playing some sort of game in front of me. My mind forces me to relive the memory of my childhood. I hear the gentle pushiness in its voice. “Let’s hear it.”

I spent whole of last week figuring out if this railway station was a guy or a girl. I have read somewhere that in languages like Japanese it’s easier to deduce the gender of the speaker by their choice of certain words. Well, in this case figuring out the gender of this station was out of the question. Coming out of my reverie I began narrating an incident from my childhood.

There was this game that we used to use to select teams for playing hide and seek. All the kids in the group were given a name of a fruit. An older child would call the name of the fruit and the kid with the name of that fruit would be a part of the team that played hide and seek. I was named okra and I was fine with that because I loved okra anyway. It took me sometime to realize that it was a trick played on me by the other kids to alienate me. As a little child it just hurt me that they didn’t consider me in that game, but as and by I got older, I understood that it was just the way things worked. In its own disorganized way, this world is extremely organized; organized into different groups. Everyone wants some kind of exclusivity and the only way to achieve that is to be a part of an exclusive group; a group of developed countries or third world countries or this type of countries or that type of countries. When it comes to school, all kids belong to their own cliques; popular kids or athletes or geeks or jerks or talented or just plain nerds or someone like me. I am the one who doesn’t belong to any of these cliques. It’s silly really, but in its own way it’s a highly evolved way of categorizing people. It’s the most convenient way of looking at things, by understanding the clique; you understand the people in that clique and define them in the most convenient way. You know, it’s like when a person says that I am from such and such a country, I get a basic profile of that person in my mind. I know it’s not right to be judgmental about people, still I guess it’s an instinct that we humans are born with; associating everything that we see, eat, drink and everyone we meet, hang out with, care for, live with - all belong to certain groups. You know it’s an age old battle between botanists about tomato being a fruit or a vegetable? I mean who cares if tomato is a fruit or a vegetable? How does it matter to which clique a kid belongs? I find that it’s a successful way of distancing one person from another and that’s what scares me the most. I heaved out a big sigh feeling emotionally drained after my monologue. It was quiet for a long time. Of course, it wasn’t quite forever.

“Everyone wants to be special. Everyone wants to be elite. Feeling like that is something that you don’t have to be ashamed of. In your family, your parents and relatives will treat you as a special kid; amongst your close friends, you are treated like a special person. But amongst a bigger group of people, this might be something that is hard to achieve for most of the people. So this big group gets broken into smaller groups and these groups into much smaller groups and this process goes on till one exclusive group is formed. In this group, everyone is great; everyone is special. It feels great to be noticed. I know that with all your complaints about being judgmental and getting hurt by being alienated, all you wanted was to belong isn’t it? Now that you found out that till date you haven’t found a group that you can call it as your own, are you going to quit? If you do, then it would be plain stupid. I cannot fully promise you that one day you will find the right people to hang out with, but I can promise you that you will definitely see a person’s admirable quality when you don’t associate them in any group of cliques. The preconceived notion about a group or a sect doesn’t allow you to see what’s actually they are made up of. I am sure, no, I am certain that there are few people in your class who can see something that they admire but they think that you are so different from them that maybe they could be wrong about you. So you see, it’s not only you who have issues with cliques and groups, but also people who belong to some cliques and groups face similar difficulties. Give them a chance; give yourself a chance. I am sure you will make some wonderful discovery about people you know. Now why don’t you run along and forget about going to the platform? I know you can find a better way of relaxing your rest of the weekend than talking to a non-existent entity.”

I really don’t want to leave this place. At least not right now. Like my mom used to say when I was a kid, playtime should always come to an end. I know I am going to be here next week.

Next Saturday: It's because I know that if I can be emotionally hurt by one person, then I can be healed by another.

Labels: Original fiction - Series

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Its because I've become a failure, I can dream of being a winner...

I have been walking aimlessly for the last couple of hours. There are so many things in my mind that it feels like my brain has become a tangled web of wires. My aimless wandering found me standing right in the middle of the railway station. It was busy with the Saturday crowd where everyone wanted to be somewhere else. It seemed like everyone likes elsewhere better than where they actually are. I find myself an empty bench in front of the platform's exit. I have read in papers about people ending their life by throwing themselves in front of a fast moving train. It was an good option for me too. I liked this station. There was a comfort amongst the strangers, a serenity in the noise and felt like this station had a life of its own. I talked to the station; about me, my life, my perspectives and my dreams. I wasn't surprised when the station replied. I started to speak;
I have been an average person all along. Average at academics, in sports, looks or any other extra curricular activities. I knew that being an average student, I had disappointed my parents. They never said it to me in person, but the hurried whispers between them in the kitchen corner or exchange of disappointed looks whenever they saw my report card were pretty much hard to miss. It tore my heart to hear my parents discussing my failure with our relatives. It was as if they were reasoning out my failures on my incapability of being number one. I have tried so hard to meet the expectations of my family and live up to their standards. But each time, I end up falling short of an inch or two. Number two/three might be a very good position in a class of forty, but it’s definitely not the number of a winner. What's the big deal about winning always anyway? At one point life happens. At that time, who cares if you were number one or two or last in your class. All that matters is, are you able to deal with it. I am sure every class in each school has a kid like me. Average looks, average in studies, easy to pick on. The cliche scares me. I wonder if there is a meaning to my existence at all; apart from being an anti-thesis to the number one student of my class. It's not like I am being pessimistic; that's how it has been till now. A monotony of everything. Even cliches.

The voice of the station was like humming of old machinery that moved in a slow pace.
“We are all searching for a meaning to our lives. Yes, we all do. It’s not like we are born knowing the reason for our existence, but I know that it’s something that we pick up along the way. I believe that there are more reasons to live than all the people in this world. You will find that reason some day, in all your hopes and dreams, in your work, with the people you associate and care about and every thing you do. Even if the reason you find is hazy or unclear or is so tiny that you can hardly see, it still is enough for you to live, to move on. Even being an anti-thesis for your classmate is a reason good enough for you to be in that class. At least, it gives you a dream of being number one someday. Go start finding a reason to your life; I hate to be the cause of end of a young life.”
I walked out of the station without even entering the platform. Next week, I promised myself.

Next Saturday: It's because I know that I can be scared at times, gives me a courage to face difficulties.

Labels: Original fiction - Series

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