There are always a few things which happen without a reason.

It was drizzling today since morning in this city of Bangalore and nothing could ever help recover from the cozy feel of the dayspring. I lay helpless stuck to different thoughts and motives. Got stuck to a feeling that life has changed a lot. In both volumes and values. The volume of people circle has decreased and so have the many values of life I once upheld as a teenager. It has become more like living to struggle than struggling to live. There is no struggles as such. Maybe a lack of motivation here and there adds to a bigger part of my frustration. Again, am not a frustrated individual, just that at times, like we all do, go a bit overboard on anything and everything.

This happened while on a drive. The unmerciful shower was forcing itself hard on my windshield and it seemed to crush everything that came under it. The road lay long and in stretch. The rains seem to be keeping everyone home tied. The vacant roads made me relax and switch on to a softer driving attitude. Adding joy to the ride was the “Aaina Mujse Mere Pehli Si Surat Maange”.. A filmy ghazal by his honorable Roop kumar Rathod carefully knit by Rajesh Roshan for Daddy. The words of the song pained me like a drug and I doomed in it over and over again. My motion was stopped by a RED. Here starts my reason for this blog.

I sat alone in the car, wiper swaying from right to left as hard as it could to beat the rain off my shield, a half foggy view from the shield and the red light at  a distance. That’s all what could catch my vision and it was worth a frame. As I kept seeing this, my heart started getting heavier. A gush of emotions started to force into my heart and soul. I was feeling as if there is something wrong happening around me and I could just break off any moment. Old moments of unfaithfulness, present moments of artificiality, the losses, the ruptures, all lay bang on me. Not letting me move. The signal countdown was steadily progressing. I was stuck. I tried to cry to come out of it, but in vain. The RED turned GREEN and suddenly I was liberated like from a grip. I moved my car ahead and continued my journey. I drove a few meters ahead and I was self induced to stop my car. I lay curious on what slipped me into such a diorama. I did a rewind and I could see more that what was just described. There was a subject in that frame probably which squeezed the emotions out of me. The signal had a small station which was probably meant for the policeman to stand and elegantly guide the traffic during its honeymoon days. But today that shelter is nothing more than a space leaking from all sides and centre. I could see a dog with its head up dribbling its saliva which was getting diluted in the rain water that flowed past it. Beside that was a lady, and something was covered and kept close to her chest, probably with an intention of giving it warmth of sorts. I remember seeing that small covered thing move. Probably it was an infant, a few days old? I could see the mist in her eyes. A rather young lady. She neither had help nor care. How the baby was born, could be another curios case to ponder. But she was protecting her kid irrespective of her circumstances.

I had shared a thought long back with a few friends of mine when I had once seen a scene through the glass window of the state owned volve bus which took me from Bandra Kurla Complex to Kandivilli. A similar rainy day, splashing its fury on the mumbaities, a fateful day for many. Hopelessly stuck in a block near Dindoshi, my eyes got stuck at a lady near a temple. There was some sort of a makeshift tent erected nearby clearly indicating a group of socially disregarded people. She was carrying an infant in her hand barely protecting her from the rain and asking for money from people who passed by. Initially I felt furious on the idea of using the child to beg. But soon I was corrected. The baby was just born a few days back as it revealed and this lady had no money to protect that poor thing from rains and the cold. The child seemed sick. She had it wrapped in a cloth and was asking people a helping hand to get the child to hospital. She moved from auto to auto all shooing her away. Even saw her touching the feet of people who came to pray in the temple nearby. The people of Mumbai probably had so much belief in god that, even with such cruel attitude, they expected to get all their wish granted and sins forgiven. I was about to get out of the bus and it started to move. My inability to be faithful to my emotions refrained me from stopping the bus and getting out of it forcibly. For a second, the selfish, purport man in me worked up and I sat glued to the seat. Closed my eyes tight and relaxed back in the seat.

This was a realization that nothing has changed from that day to this. I am just the same. Non – Reactive, self centered, asocial, meaningless human being that I have always been. The emotions, the frustrations and the outbursts are probably a mere way of exhibiting what I would have been if I had a pinch of genuineness attached to me. I am a human being, less attached to its literal meaning, more tied to its contemporary meaning of being heart less. I wanted to get out of the car and wash myself off in the rain. I kept moving and the pain slowly mellowed out.

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