Story of likeness and trust! Chapter-9

IX

Now my co-passenger was another girl and she too was around my age. Other than a warm hello, there was no conversation between the two of us for sometime. As few minutes passed by, I found her in stress. I asked her if she was fine and then what I got to know was her audacity, her adventure inviting attitude in life. Few people are determined to see a flash of events turn their lives. They call it experience if they lose, and experience if they win their dreams. To see the wonderful actor come out of their actions is a dream of the young blood. Regardless of whatever the result is. It's often said too, that the fate of a nation progressively depends a great deal on the passion of its youth. I stood upon my opinions as she uttered an honest offering or was it an honest suffering? She followed up with this line, “I have run away from my home, for my career."

I was awestruck, laid in shock and a feeling of distress kind flew into my being. Maybe I was too determined to feel the intensity that would have been out of her situation. Although the circumstances that spring into a person's life vary from the other person's life but the heart is a magical organ in our body that relates us to the hearts of others. It's about a heart that beats for the other hearts' pain and suffering. 

I didn't ask her any further for I knew not what was most appropriate to ask or say to her distressed state. Maybe there was nothing to ask or say after all, the step had been already taken. Now only God must have known whether it was out of frustration or some calling from within, that this unknown girl took such a big step in her life. She herself gave me another thought with her sweet voice and that little sentence made me ponder about endlessly about what she had meant. It was a simple sentence, but it provoked me I don't know why?

"I am going to stay in Delhi with my dearest friend 'Rosy'." She paused.

I pondered about, if this friend of her could provide her a blanket in the dark nights and chilling winters of the city, she was visiting for the very first time. Could she take care of her? Still, I didn't know why these thoughts were coming to me. After all, I had just met her; and why was I thinking so much? If her friend was there for her, then there wasn't much to be tensed about, at least for me. 

Few dreams excite you to an extent that you don't think from your mind and neither from your heart. You are moved by an unknown force of ambition. It sits on you and makes the innocence in you carry out its steps in the vast, fast running world. It somewhere provides you the meaning of your life but sometimes it hurts you intently when there is a severe downfall. Ambition I felt was like wine, which enters through our taste buds and twig by twig, crumb by crumb rules our body, our actions.

Then came to my reverie, Newton's third law of motion; "Each action has equal and opposite reaction." The life will gift you the bouquet of flowers if it finds in you the purer epitome and essence of labour, and it will keep surprising you every instant. Sometimes what you get is bitter and sometimes it is sweet. Even if we lose on something, then too will we gain a truer facet of life. Our immune system will be strong and we won't be easily defeated by diseases.

She started to express her heart out. People in grief want someone to listen to them. I was being all ears to her.

"Look when you have got nothing then there is nothing much to lose." It was a famous dialogue I had already heard beforehand but it was quite a different experience to hear it from her. "Why was she telling me that?" I asked myself in ambiguity. I prayed for a brake to accustom in her speech so that I could think all about myself. Well, the memories of the marriage were sounding reminiscence bells. Devika and her style of living her life. About the morning when we lost our directions and her experiences to be in a silent cottage, about all that.

In no time my fellow passenger buzzed me again. She wanted to share her thoughts with me, for she might have thought that I could advice her, hug her weaknesses and present her with words of wisdom, of strength.

I said;

"Now calm down and let the things settle.Think positively and with an open mindset. I suggest that you describe your situation and where about to your family to let things go easy."

I gave her my cell-phone and she broke into tears. That day an ocean could form with the intensity of her tears. She made a call home and her family felt light, at ease and she was given her chance, her dream that she thought she could somehow attain with little support of her friend in Delhi. Her dream I still had no idea about. What she would do in Delhi, she hadn't known. How strange it felt, only I know. 

Her name was 'Diya'. When the bus stopped she remained unmoved, while the other passengers were getting out of the bus to have snacks. She ate nothing when the bus stopped at the roadside food junction.

I brought a packet of chips and I offered her a cup of tea that she accepted, with grace of a hope on her face. 

"Tum hamare par iss kadar karz na kiye; kaun jaane ye jaan tum par nirbhar ho jaye"(Don't make me your creditor. I know not if this life becomes dependent upon you".)

She spoke the words to which my heart connected. I knew that this "Pahaari"(a person from the hills) girl meant every word that evolved out from her girly charm. I kept silent, unknowing of the fact whether I could speak any better. A smile quietened the long journey. Diya was wakeful all long but I had dreamt with open eyes. My eyes couldn't put a blanket or close; for I was living a part of her situation. 

That day, I wanted to write few words that could comfort her. I dreamt myself as a poet. I could note her tender feelings and with wishful mind, I kept thinking of the possible ballads or songs. Diya had made me think and frame opinions about the world. Within my intense rung a song of profound sadness. I suffered with the girl. We shared some moments of silence; peace rolled and controlled our low spirits only to end up comforting us. Now, she had come out of that bottomless pit where she had been drowning. "Thank you Mister!" She whispered. "Oh! I did naught a thing. If you want to thank, then thank yourself. You are, your own strength."  We smiled together for the first time.

The road ahead gave holy fragrance of the Roses, the Sarso(Mustard) plants filled the farms  in yellow clusters which made which brought a poet to work. There was some understanding between the two of us and the journey was to last another hour or so. Diya, waited to see her dreamland; I waited to see the roads that were familiar to me.  

To be continued..

Next in-- 

(Chapter- 10) At,

Time: 8:00 A.M.
Date: 20/12/2014