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Journal

In the Rain (18th September, 2002)
I was standing under a small shed. The rain splattered down heavily. The sky itself growled and was very dark. I was dripping drenched and at that moment many memories flashed by. I missed home so much and wondered what my parents were doing just then. Do they have a choice to remain under the shed because there is a heavy downpour? No, they do not.
It was like a storm. The strongest wind blew. My thought was whether to walk out or stay under the shed. So many mixed feelings galloped inside me and I wished I had a miracle to help the world.

7th September, 2002
I was waiting for my friend in front of the bank, silently looking around the surrounding and admiring them with a nod of satisfaction. Within the range of my vision, an old man went on a cycle. I repeat, and old man. A bag hung down from the hanger in front of him. A flash of thought (of pity and pain) passed through me. I accepted it as a natural thing…but my heart could not accept the same. It kept returning to that image – an old man on a bicycle with a bag hung in front of him. I was thinking that there might be many children at home waiting for him to bring something. He might be the bread earner of the family. I felt the world so cruel for not leaving the old people out of its clutch. Why do they have to trouble all the way till death? Before these thoughts were answered, my friend came out of the bank and we walked of, I still in those thoughts.

Enjoying in the Happiness of Others
28th September 2002

Happiness is about feeling content over what we do every minute of our living. It is not about being selfish and greedy and being nosed in the air. Its simple fact lies in sharing the lives in making others happy more than in trying to satisfy our own insatiable desire.
Today I realized this more than any other day I have so far lived. Leki came to my room yesterday night with a look of horror, to tell me that Keli was insisting for an answer. She came in my room today to tell me that she gave him a positive answer. Even while walking to the hostel from the college, I found myself enjoying over the happiness he might be flying in at that time. It must have been the happiest moment, a dream come true. I was happy for him and for them both. I said a simple prayer that they are happy in all times to come.

Reflection in the Pond
It rained an hour ago and the weather was chilling…the night so calm and dark, there wasn’t a single star in the sky. Neither was there the moon. Except for the street lights, the night was horribly dark. But it wasn’t the kind of night that would make you feel like staying put in your room. I wanted to breathe in fresh air and wanted to feel the cool breeze on my face (it was 9:20 pm).
I took a quiet (quiet because I was all alone) stroll near my hostel, walking past and back again, chanting the mantra of ‘Vajra Sattva’. I wasn’t really alone. There were some groups of girls, sitting on the benches…talking loudly and laughing their hearts out. Then a night security guard came on a cycle to change for the previous one. There were workers in the workhouse. I could hear the clatter of pots and pans. The street lights were dazzling the night rather beautifully. And there was this atmosphere where you could feel everything alive. I started missing my parents.
As I prayed, there was a dripping coolness, chilling my heart with a sudden feeling of both happiness and sorrow. I wasn’t thinking of myself. I was thinking of the world. There were many clusters of insects humming around the bulb. Everything, I mean every little thing was having its own life…busy to notice a figure walking by. I reached a small puddle – a trail of the rain we had an hour earlier. I looked down and the reflection of the bright bulb caught my eyes…and an impulse of something realization grasped my heart, - “I’m nothing more than that reflection of the light. I won’t last as long as it does”. The realization struck! The nerves stood. That laughter of girls wouldn’t last long. The street lights wouldn’t be lit throughout the night. The humming insects wouldn’t see the day forever. The night guard wouldn’t cycle to and fro all day long. “And what about me?”
I prayed hard for the girls laughing there, for the insects humming around the bulb, for the night security that was standing by the gate, for the workers who were torn, and for my parents who are alive in my heart though very far away. I prayed for every little heart of this world. How long could I pray? I wanted to make everything for ever.
(Note: It was written 3 years back when I was in college and far from home. That was the time when I missed home and my parents and wished hard that there never was something called meeting and parting. I wished things were meant to last forever.

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