Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Lost Message

Sitting on the bench under the tree, Bob was simply gazing. It wasn't a garden so to say, just a bit of shade and a place to rest; though quite attractive for some, like it was for Bob. He had kept his packet next to him and was looking very comfortable on that bench. His eyes were staring in one direction but his ears were catching all the noise he was surrounded by. In such a place where one could not think about concentrating on one element, Bob was surprised by his focused mind. He felt like a spectator who was looking at a live performance, not involved himself rather just witnessing it.

Even if he wanted he didn't see individual actions. What he saw was a mass flow. Everyone was dashing in one or the other direction; by foot or by a vehicle; some looking happy but mostly stressed. Strangely Bob questioned himself, ‘Where are they going?’ He was dumbstruck. He couldn't assess the reason for such a rush. Bob had a feeling that they all should stop and look upwards. It was getting dark but the sky was still reddish orange. Indeed, it was a pleasant sight. He had a strong urge to ask everyone to enjoy the rich colours, to capture the sky’s vastness and to wait for the first visible star; only to then relish the starry night.

Bob got up. He tried to shout at everyone present in the scene but his voice failed. After a few seconds he finally said, ‘Everyone look up at the sky.’ But it wasn't a shout, in fact his message was pitched below his normal level. A person, who was just passing him, stopped and started looking upwards. He asked Bob, ‘What is it?’ Bob was alarmed, he didn't expect any questions. Bob replied in a confused tone, ‘Just…just…have a look.’ Looking hard at the sky that person again enquired Bob, ‘But what is it?’ Bob was speechless. His mind was scattered once again. Lot of thoughts entered him and knocked his focus down. Bob managed to say, ‘It is beautiful…the sky…?’ That person left Bob with a cold look, munching some harsh words on his way.

Rubbing his face Bob asked himself, 'What was I trying to do?' He had no clue. He checked his watch, almost twenty minutes had passed. He took a deep sigh. A couple crossed him, they had the same bag as he had. Suddenly he looked at his bag, then his watch and took to feet immediately. Bob’s mind was shouting in bold letters, he could see it through his inner eye. It was repeating some words continuously- ‘THE BAG…YOU ARE LATE…BAG…LATE…BAG…SO DEAD.’

Bob walked so quickly that soon he merged with the crowd. With all those who didn't hear his message.

Night Jasmine

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