(Photo Credit: Arindam Mohanty)
I passed by a lot of faces today as I sat in an auto making my way to work. Blurry images that should mean nothing to me and for whom I actually did not even care. However for some reason I paused unconventionally to throw a thought about the people I was passing.
I stared at a man as he drove past, trying to look into his eyes. No, I wasn’t a queer; I had been hit with one of my random thoughts that just would not leave me. My mind wander away – yet not too far.
Everyone was different, I thought, and everyone had something happening in their life – that no one else outside his secure fortress knew. Hidden sorrows, problems in the bedroom that were locked in with all the other belongings as a person had.
I stared at a random person, wondering what his life was like. Did he have a wife and kid (or kids) at home? Were they a happy family? Was he able to meet their needs? What was his dream? What did he think about or care about? What was his fear? What did he think about as he drove around and went on with his life?
The more I thought about it, the more the simple truth hit me – I knew nothing about the people around me. But why did that strike me? What significance did this random thought have?
Everyone has their issues, everyone goes through their moments of turbulence, everyone struggles with something – addictions, loyalty issues, depressions, family trouble, screwed up relationships… the list is long and unfriendly.
And inspite of the fact that our neighbour is staggering, we tend to live in our own cocoon, looking at our own lives and the problems that we have, while ignoring everyone else.
As I glanced at the people around me, I was over whelmed by the simple fact that everyone has a story of their own, a tale that no one else known or will know, a secret tragedy hidden, buried and forgotten… or so they hope.