I had to bury my past! Just get rid of it. All those unnerving, devastating memories had to flow past the drain.
After my work hours I just couldn’t pass through
So, everyday after I would be done for the day at work, all roads would lead to the park. Daily, I would pass through the bunch of oldies perched upon their benches. Some coochie-cooing youngsters trying to avoid the sight of every passerby. Then there were the middle-aged women chanting away their daughters-in-law, basically forming a complaint zone of like-minded people. Every possible nook and corner of the park was occupied. A little space here and there was taken up by little cranky kids; except one bench! Ah, lucky me! I thought and perched upon it as swiftly as I could. The view presented to me from this bench was neither overwhelming nor soothing, I must say, because all I could see was nothing more than children. Children of all possible ages, crying, whimpering, screaming, howling and dampening the spirit of every individual who was looking forward to a quiet, fresh evening.
So, not bothering much and relenting to the noisy ambience I looked around for some mental peace. At first I noticed all the old men, almost all, looking at me curiously. I glared back and startled them with my rude but honest attitude. ‘Alright, not so bad’, I told myself. I was assuring myself that this scene would not be a part of my life for a very long time. As days would pass, I would get adjusted to this noisy scene just like people get used to local trains. One whiff of the cool evening breeze and my mind was out of this chaos.
Little while later I realized a hand laid on the back of my bench. Obviously enough, it belonged to none other than my immediate neighbour. I didn’t appreciate it much but I had no plans of looking at him right into the eye due to his proximity. But quietly and quickly glancing at his clothes,he belonged to a better class of people for sure. For all the time I spent there I noticed this person’s hand stretched on the resting back of the bench. ‘Never mind’, I thought ‘just one of those times’.
The next day again I marched towards the park and to my surprise all the benches were occupied like a blockbuster movie show. Just then I found my bench. And ooh la la, it was vacant except for my neighbour of yesterday. But little did I care and off I dashed to it. After enjoying the cool breeze for a while I adjusted myself to the noisy sanctity of the park. But to my surprise I could sense this neighbour’s hand right behind me on the seat’s edge again. I thought I shall ignore, since anyway it didn’t touch me.
All I needed was my own space, away from all those friends and relatives who knew about my relationship with Sameer for the past 6 years. Since we had decided to get married soon, getting too close with him was not an apprehension at all. I had actually dedicated my life to him. I was a part of him. But off-late, I had noticed a little change in his attitude. My calls were being casually avoided, our meetings had abrupt endings, he wasn’t so interested in sex anymore, nor was there any enthusiasm in celebrating Valentine’s and birthdays together. As any madly-in-love category girl would, I chose to ignore. But as days passed, the cracks in our relationship deepened. There were fights for no reason. He started making me wait endlessly at theatres for movies, at restaurants for our meetings and slowly he began not showing up at all. That was it! I had thought to myself. So one day after prodding his best friend a bit too much, I got a cue and decided to follow Sameer and see what he was up to after work hours. He drove past a few lanes and parked outside ‘Sea View’ apartments. I was shocked. This was the place where Anandita lived. Anandita was Sameer’s boss, MD of their company and a divorcee. She had a special liking for Sameer. If Sameer would fall for her, he would have a promotion, better salary, lots of foreign trips, perks and of course a flat at Sea View, in an upmarket location with Anandita. She was a very ordinary looking, ill-dressed, messy, outspoken, rude woman and moreover a divorcee. Hooking Sameer was definitely a god-sent for her. Sameer failed for the bait and chose her over me. While I followed him in her apartment, he was totally unaware. When I reached her floor I tried to peep through the drawing-room window. I noticed Sameer’s laptop bag lying on the table, his shoes by the door, his necktie and then I saw his shirt strewn on the sofa too. That was all which was needed for the crack in our relationship to finally deepen and break. I couldn’t cry nor get angry. I didn’t know what to do. I went numb and returned home. The whole night I cried until my eyes couldn’t open. I felt like a storm-stricken victim with no place to go and no help. Friends tried to help but I looked at all the attention as sympathy. I wanted to be away from all. The thought of dying, ending my life, occurred numerous times, but I wasn’t a loser. I wanted to fight back and show him that I was not a doormat one could use and give up. Life was not treating me well for sure, but I was not willing to give in to the gloom. Nursing the pain was not so easy, so I wanted a totally indifferent atmosphere, unknown people and shoulder to cry on. Except the last, I had it all in the park.
My everyday parade to the park continued for a week now. Daily the same scene, same set of people, same scent of the air and the same neighbour with his hand outstretched. It did occur to me at times that I would stroll around but something held me back. Maybe the fear of losing my seat. But surely enough, I could not look to my right, because my vision and view were restricted by the stranger, a well-dressed, neat-smelling man turned towards me as I sat to his left with his left arm over my shoulders. No, not leaning on me, but my backrest. In my heart I did realize he was a decent man. I never heard him speak, snort, sneeze or for that matter, even move. Little did I bother and enjoyed my time. Each passing day was helping me discover a new aspect of my confidence and mental strength. I was trying to fight back each teardrop with a shield of will-power to sustain this cheating and humiliation.
I was swamped with work and got so delayed that I was contemplating of shelving my plans of going to the park. But somehow I had got so used to my routine; I felt the urge to be amidst the crowd, the oldies, lovely children, their innocence and my strange neighbour. Oh, did I say I was missing my neighbour! Why would I miss him? All he did was to look intently at the kids, observed them for hours. He had no friends who would come over and talk to him or no passerby with whom he would exchange a smile. How strange was this stranger? But I guess I missed him because never did I feel a need of a friend besides me, never did I feel alone, never did he disturb me nor did I ever. In these times of my mental trauma, I wanted somebody who would not ask me questions, a silent listener for my unspoken thoughts, help me cope with my agony, vent out my ire, help me get drained in self-pity…..basically just be by my side as an unshaken pillar of strength. And he had done it all. Knowingly or unknowingly he had helped me overcome the residues of my past by just being there. Quietly making me feel secure, yet not intruding my space. I was so overjoyed with this thought that I decided to visit this stranger at the park for the little time I had for the evening.
Off I marched to the park and to my dismay my bench was occupied. I saw a lot of people around my bench. But ‘he’ was still there. I could see a few men trying to do something with him. I slowed my pace and tried hard to find out what was happening. I saw those uncles busy looking in that direction as well. I quickly went over to one of them. As I approached them I could the look of dismay on their faces. I got concerned and so I spoke to one of them, this tiny little grandpa with whom I exchanged smiles daily because he resembled my own grandpa. Actually they all look alike, or so I think.
Grandpa at first looked a little startled at my question. In his shaky voice he asked me,” Don’t you really know?” He could probably read my anxiety and so he explained.
“His name is Anuj. He was married a year ago to his childhood sweetheart, Medha. They were very happy. They had their share of dreams and amen from above, they were soon to step into parenthood. They would visit this park daily, sit on this same bench, look at the children play and at times join them too. They both loved kids. But destiny had different plans. Just two months ago they met with a terrible accident. Anuj lost Medha and their unborn child. He injured his left hand and leg very badly. He has steel rods in both those limbs. He comes here everyday only to nurture those sweet little memories he had with Medha.”
“He has to keep his limbs stretched out all the time, else they pain. So, you must have noticed his hand resting on the backrest of the bench. But his leg couldn’t rest likewise on the bench because you would be seated there. In spite of knowing this, we never came and told you, because Anuj never wanted us to disturb you. He had quietly noticed those tears roll down your cheeks, your troubled face, your listless gaze, and sensed your inner turmoil. He seemed to understand your anger towards all. Often we suggested him to request you to let him rest his leg on the bench. But he would not relent.”
I was dumbfounded. I did not know how to react. Speechless and mocking at my own self! How could I be so rude and ignorant? Here I was nursing my silly sorrows and this man had lost almost all in life yet he was so considerate and unknowingly had healed my wounds.
I stood still, my eyes welled-up and thanking him in my heart I thought this ‘unspoken silence’ had taught me a big lesson in life.
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photo courtesy - Simon Howden
