staring difference

The last visit was a long time ago, she imagined.

She was staring at the waves. It was a hectic week broken by the morning incident. The kid beside had a smart phone, belonging to his dad. The surrounding was oblivious, the kid randomly key-pressed perhaps enjoying the beeps, more than anything else. Thinking about what she would have been doing, she welcomed the break nevertheless. The soldier toy had a small but sharp gun, and every time he decided to knockout the other kids Joe, it hurt the fingers. The right hand was gently placed on her lap. Adjusting the locks behind her ear, she averted the sudden breeze threatening to throw light sand. The car was a few hundred yards away, the sun rays beaming on the shiny chassis from some distance.

Few miles away lay a couple of hundred flat buildings, numbered rather than named. The path way here leading to the ride-boats, somewhat into the sea, could sway anyone when the wind was strong. The wooden planks making the pathway covered the water bed, blinking from beneath. Not one of those days, when she decided to walk the line of the lake view.

The young girl was contemplating a lot, he thought. He himself was nothing short of reflective. An unexpected but forced break and he peeked on the past thoughts. He knew this, but continued to do so. The corporate plaza construction beams shone from a distance. Once in a while, the light reflected straight onto his face, calling out. The kid was playing with his somersault-dog, battery powered for acrobatics. As he oscillated with his toy, the stiff legged lunge saw him fall forward. He supported the fall with his right arm pivoted around the shoulder, but the wrist took the brunt, I believe. Thud! As he jerked off to get hold of the kid, his face had anguish and he sat back in pain. The kid got up, went back to his Lego bricks and was fine. He looked away at the waves, tilting slightly to the right.

The crowd was generally vociferous, except for the two beings, the gentleman thought. Or maybe three he wondered. Active to inert, had a very small transition, he thought. One moment, and the other moment, so much for a life twist. The light hit the silver on the medals. His Labrador was restless scrunching the sand, like the kid. Few moments ago, the gentleman was feeling a little suffocated, on his return, in his new home. The combat boots with the direct molded sole were shining. Anachronous he thought. There was no other option, except for getting used to the new place he thought. From being the right wing to none, the thoughts reflected.

She was not totally comfortable, the brisk knuckle and finger movements nagging and bothering her. She knew they won’t be agile today. The fingers hurt. The cut to the index and middle ones, were still raw under the aid.

The rotator cuff muscle was a little damaged. The ladder slid was accompanied by the small boulder making him land on his right shoulder, taking the whole weight of the body. A little too much, for the momentum.

The sun was on the way back. The gentleman was leaving, avoiding the sunken sun, sinking feeling. The winds fluctuated, sailing one of his sleeves, the usually taut ones. The vision of the mushroom still fresh in the eyes. He left, controlling the labrador single handedly.

The sun was set, and so were the three, to go. A day, a week and all days of work and not life were to be off.

unrelated

The curfew was on, it was pitch black. Seventh day in succession, the military tires screeched annoying the butterflies. Those moments of terror, reigning in the minds, remind you of the importance of independence, sovereignty and freedom. What it is to live without fear. The kid did not understand all this... He was not playing for a week now. He missed his friends. Anything beyond that was beyond his world too. The next sun brought some light to the village. He was more than happy to run along and play.

The scenario here was still tense. After last night's massacre, things looked like someone was avenged, and no more bloodshed was to be expected for some time. A quiet breakfast was not the worst thing you could do right now.

"The ball crosses the fence, to the other side.. A thud and some bounces are heard, interrupting breakfast. The kid has a look outside his "I don't know how someone can have a house there" place and finds that the ball is in his court. The other kid is not physically far, but very far due to a barbed fence. He eggs on to kick the ball over the fence.. (Barrier as they said, because of the country fence) after a little illegibility/introspection, he manages to do so. It was due to an initiative appreciated/evoked by the other. I don't know if they played happily ever after. But yeah, "Barriers break when people talk" that's what they said. The two kids never spoke, at least never communicated."

That was quite a simple advertisement.

That actually brought me some random thoughts, which I had for quite a while in my mind. These thoughts don't necessarily arrive at anything, but just give me an illusion of a unifying world.

What makes people/nations collaborate? We definitely know why they fight; there are reasons to see/understand, on the face. But what drives the camaraderie?

They say, "Take the effort of loan to try 10 friendships, if one succeeds it will more than repay the debt." But that's way different than why nations collaborate. There has to be some give n take. There are selfish motives, gains, losses, expectations, dominance, envy, goals, ambitions, humiliations, power corruption, and not sure but progress. Is there a bit of unconditional gesture, somewhere? Or does that possibility sound like rubbish?

With people, apart from all the above, there may be the 'Liking' factor, which brings them together. But that's still within. How can nations come together? They don't find a 'Liking' out of the blue. Neither do the people feel like, when there is no starting point. Have there been the agents, who have worked for this bridge? If yes, was there and if yes, what was the motive?

Trade, revenue, necessity, revenge, power, tourism has driven association of owned lands in history. A sport probably is the gentlemanly reason, but piggy backed by money somewhere down the line.

People exchange ideas, share a laugh, favors and taunts. Nations exchange goods, undertake trade, mutual welfare programs, etc. in the process, people of different nations meet. If they have to collaborate over a common goal, they do so. There is always a motive. Need. Gain. Benefit. Desperation.

What is the curve looking like? We were all one and small. Then we got divided, governed, differentiated out of necessity maybe, until it all became too disparate. Now we want the drops to form the mother crystal again. Or at least want to behave that way.

The past years have certainly seen us looking beyond our homes, street, village/city, state, region.. and country for the increasing few..

My country has 'M' states with 'N' million people belonging to so many dialects/origins under the roof of the motherland. I hope the same happens at a slightly higher level, with the worldly nations under Mother Earth, in a few years.

I am sure there is always an empty bench in a nice park, for two of them to sit, even if Pune and San Jose are totally unrelated. Or maybe they are not.

greater journey

i jotted down these words roughly, when i was in my native place.
probably in 2006 i believe..

As the Hands moved to enable her first vision of the world,
The Voice prevented it, in its tone, so cold;
“Do not disturb, let her sleep”, explained the Voice,
“Know not what tomorrow holds, what if she is left with no choice.”

“Do not wake her up in this world of illumined darkness,
Let her be in the same state, the Best we can be in;
Touch her not, for she will never be acquainted with fluorescence,
Leave her not in the hands of the Hounds, ready to abet.

By being the innocent of babies, God’s own worth,
The shadows of misery will approach her with great mirth;
The growing and gloomier difficulties will steal her zeal,
The toothless grin will be transformed into a demoralizing scene.

Controversies will accompany her as a shadow and black mark,
Criticism will flow in, no matter what the caliber is;
Weight will not, but overweight will surely, make her break,
Admonishments or accountability, there are too many things to answer.

Do not wake her up, Let her sleep, unflappable and unruffled,
Treachery and betrayal, burdens galore, are ready on their toes,
Every walk of life, every path and turn will leave her baffled,
Ignorance, discouragement, evil’s temptation: Oh! There are too many foes.

Save her from the pain of missing a loved one,
Spare her from farewells, ready to tear her apart;
Keep her away from memories, that hurt the soul,
Provide respite from the world, which has nothing but gloom.

Let her not see the worst of nightmares,
Wake her not, for she is strange to the worldly cares;
Know not how she will climb uphill, it’s so steep,
Wake her not, wake her not; let my baby gleefully sleep.

Wake her not to the thorns, life has in store for her,
Making the roller coaster ride of life as uneven as possible;
Wake her not, wake her not, and let my baby peacefully sleep,
I may be a pessimist, but I don’t want her to wake up and weep.”

The Hand was confused by now listening to this,
It slowly but surely withdrew from its action;
Just as it was about to leave the one, untouched
The realist was right there, to give the final touch.

“Wake her up. Wake her up. She’s been in dreams too long,
Let her open her eyes and enjoy them in real form;
Wake her up, and see her listen to Nature’s sweet song,
She will be the one to improvise, and break the monotonous norm.

Let her face the Sunshine of life, the First Light,
The tune of ever living Happiness will be sounding sweet;
The treasures of the world are ready to devote themselves,
Wake her up and enjoy the ease with which she excels.”

“Tomorrow will hold several paths, leading her to different directions,
But she will be blessed with the fluorescent Light to reach her Destination;
Innocence to start with, but maturity to end with,
If anything, force and stress always toughened the steel.

Men start with great zeal, in any difficult race:
The one determined to keep it up will be in good pace;
Crushing every evil coming in the way, with good margin
The Unknown forces will be at work, but she will win.

Fire tries Gold, Miseries are the trials for Character,
Criticisms and brickbats will bring out the Best;
She will succeed with flying colors, with a new chapter
She will forge her own way, and be a cut above the rest.

Change is constant, it is the spice and, hence the farewells,
Life has to move on, but the love will remain as gentle as it is;
If ever Love grew more intensely and the affection was manifold,
It was never without the pain of missing a loved one.

She will keep her head under the tribulations,
She will oppose every wave of evil and stand the stress;
She will love everyone, and win one and all, with her Goodwill,
And then she will be the One, and she is the One.

No one ever slid uphill; it was never a cakewalk,
Earned victories are sweeter than ones, received as gifts;
She will exhibit her excellence, unveil the exuberant energy
See the baby turn into the Gem and the Prodigy.

Wake her up, to enjoy the moments with loved ones,
Give her the privilege to share the Titanic legacy of love;
She will easily overcome each and every hurdle,
Wake her up, let her dreams come true, let her Shine.”

Not only the Hand, but also the other voice was convinced,
About the right move, you can’t suppress a seed for long;
They allowed the flower to blossom, waking up the Baby,
You’re on the way, in the journey and you know what it’s all about.