One of the few times

I want to pen (type) it down before it gets lost in the whirl of thoughts in my brain..
It was winters. The season I love. And it was evening. Oh yes it was.. darkness eating up the sky early as it does in winter. It was barely 5:30 but was pitch dark. I had some evening classes and I usually came back late. The place was about five minutes from my house and I loved that walk. Like I said.. I just love running around the planet. Busy. Busy

So there I was.. walking merrily with some other girls. The streets were not empty but a healthy number of people were moving around. The type that makes streets alive but not crowded to a negative extent. As I was about two minutes from my house, I saw bunch of old men coming out from a mosque, probably after offering their evening prayers. I was way too happy for the simple reason that I had been way too busy that day. As I came forward, I saw a really old man walking really slowly with his folks. It was pitch dark, he could barely see me, Plus with my face all hidden. I smiled at him real bright behind the cover and bowed my head just an inch, Just as I used to do when Grandpa was around.

I cannot explain what happened next. He was several yards away from me. He turned a bit, lifted his head up, straightened his old, sort-of-bent body,looked at me straight and nodded as if he knew what I just did. I was thunderstruck. There was absolutely no way he could’ve seen my face, and I usually walk with my head little bowed down.. But I could see his face because of the lights issuing from the mosque. My eyes were big and bright as I moved away into my street and rang the bell. Thank you Sir for making me feel special that day. Maybe it was your prayers that helped me pursue peace. Maybe your prayers help me survive. Whatever the case might be… I feel as if I owe you…


2 thoughts on “One of the few times”

  1. iLike! …. i like the innocence and feeling of serenity in this writing, and the way you interpreted his sight of you, regardless of what he was thinking deep inside….

    umm i also like how you described this part: ‘I smiled at him real bright behind the cover and bowed my head just an inch, Just as I used to do when Grandpa was around.’ …. this just reminds me of the girls in my small town I grew up … as much as the idea of getting old terrifies me, sometimes I kind of like it … especially when I think of the old people in my country, the respect and high place they get in society … i dont like how old people are treated in the West, by the young especially … but I like the fact that the law makes sure senior citizens get some special privileges in public goods… like special seats or travel discounts, etc … nevertheless, respecting the elderly should be ingrained in the minds of the people culturally, not enforced by the law.

    1. First of all. Thanks for the insight

      Secondly.. yes.. My society loves and respects the elders too.. Much more than anywhere else I have observed, Culture as you say. But the minds are changing everywhere. The culture and the basics of being a human are rusting away.. And they forget once the basics collapse their sky scrapers will fall to complete destruction. Love and care has to be understood by these so developed brains of our race.. Respect cannot be enforced or implemented I suppose…

      But what I gather from the look in his eyes.. Sire.. he knew.. Or maybe.. who knows I reminded him of someone closer?

      But I always say.. These eyes have seen a lot more. Their hearts have suffered way more. And It takes a long journey to reach there….


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