Moments that are special may not necessarily consist of good ones. Special moments automatically get set in the "golden ring of memory ", no extra effort is needed for the same. Life is abundant with ORDINARY moments that, if these can be looked at from a different perspective, may become special. After all, our existence in this Solar System is Special. So, we better look for specialties in ordinary events.
Regarding my first comment that special moments may be a bad one too, I'd like to share an example from my own life. As a rule, I don't talk about such experiences; but here, to establish my view expressed, I'm making an exception to that rule. Hope the boy, if he ever comes to see this (OR NOT), pardons me.
The car lot is a 7-10 minutes’ walk from my office. While walking the distance in the evening, I'd take a banana from Saddam, the seller. I'm in the habit of talking to strangers. This peculiar habit has earned me uncommon friends - from a Rickshaw puller to a beggar. That day, while eating my banana and talking to Saddam, I suddenly noticed a very slim, dirty boy of 5-6 years sitting below a nearby tree and looking curiously at me. I ate my fruit with my eyes fixed on that thin boy. He didn’t say anything. I asked him to come – “Edike ektu ashbi Baba?”(Would you please come to me, son?”). Shy and afraid, hunger in his eyes, he came to me.
With much hesitance he took the banana from my hand. I asked his name. “Paltu”, in came a shy reply. Passing my hand caressingly through his dirty hair, I told him smiling, “ Wait for me at about his time every day and we’ll have our tiffin together. Or you can take bananas from Saddam and I’ll pay later.” Then I confirmed him by saying to Saddam, “Give him a banana or two, I’ll pay later.” “I know you, Babu Ji. Don’t worry. I’ll give him.” And I left the place.
Paltu never came for another banana. In the acts of giving, we have pride, a sense of doing something superior. But, for the taker, it’s a moment of helplessness shrouded by misery or whatever apt word you may choose to place.
My wife recollected something similar to this incidence. Some years back, she was having her road-side-snacks just behind a Metro Station. A girl, with a fixed glance at her food, stood beside the entrance to the station. My wife asked her if she wants to have some food. Much to her shock and bewilderment she witnessed that without uttering a single word, the girl started crying covering her face with her hands. Hunger kills self-esteem with more force than anyone can possibly imagine.
These two incidents are very small accounts of the billions of regular trials and tribulations that our poor children go through every day in every nook and corner of the country that we call our Motherland – the country that has produced so many Rich and World-famous personalities.
Such experiences impel me to think that “Moments that are special may not necessarily consist of good ones.”
“I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the dark?
I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not.”
(Verse No. XXX, Gitanjali – Rabindranath Tagore)
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