Keep holding on
It was a beautiful ride . A stark contrast to the the mindless auto-buzz I dive into ,without any regret,sunrise after sunrise... sunset after sunset. But then, this was a beautiful ride in every sense. I went gentle on the accelerator to take in gulps of the country side. The paddy fields smiled adieu as I moved on. The roads dutifully curved to unfold never ending feasts to my city-sore eyes.
The ride must have stretched across 25 kms. I was going to meet some kids at a blind school that fringed the city..So that was on my mind too. I remember being vaguely apprehensive about how they would take to me and had to remind myself not to ask the wrong questions. I normally have a ball with kids and I assured myself that this was no different. Bikes screeched behind me. I retraced back into the blind school.It meant stepping into their world and looking out only to see they were very much a part of my world.
A deserted merry-go-round greeted me. The day that had begun cold and windy was warming up,proving my jacket a bad choice. I ventured inside anyway, eager and impatient.
There were around 10-15 kids . From the 3 year old, fully blind, homesick Priya who could go on non-stop without prompting about her family, village, water pots, food and what not with a shy smile to the 8 year old distant Shanti who barely uttered a word, gave me the rude shoulder trying to get rid of me,which made me sure she needed me the most to the 9 year old boy who danced to glory heedless of the ripe wounds on his limbs to the 5 year old cute,timid Rajesh who was silently enjoying with a smile,that made him seem wiser to the 5 year old uma with a huge appetite and glasses that just made you wonder how the tiny nose underneath survived to the 7 year old girl who braided my hair when I was done with hers to the boy who sang so well to the one that won the arm wrestling competition to the smart bunch that grasped operating my mobile phone .....I kept witnessing subtle words, actions and gestures...amongst themselves,every bit suggesting love.
They were a family by themselves, watching out for each other displaying a maturity that possibly we were denied that tender age, by the sense they lacked. I felt strangely alive in their world, basking in their love. Goodbye was tearful. I had to tear myself apart from the arms of a crying kid. Feeling gloomy myself, I was about to leave when after sharing 4 hours of cold silence with me in return to all my efforts at warming up to her, Shanti whispered " I enjoyed myself".
As I pressed on the accelerator, I saw them going back into the school,some happy with what time they had, some crying at what they missed , yet everyone holding hands with each other.
