Wednesday, March 21, 2012

A Miniature Teacher

Dark black leggings and white sleeveless top, with dark big green dots all over the top; dressed a fairy in disguise.  I missed to observe her for a long time in the train compartment on my way home.  I was almost mesmerized by the Paulo Coelho whom I was holding in my hand, ‘The Pilgrimage’ – first book by Paulo Coelho, renowned author of ‘The Alchemist’, I often mention him as ‘Mr. Interesting Freak’.  Paulo is my favorite author because his wave length matched mine.

Okay, back to the scene:

When I was with Paulo (reading), two giants, who were mesmerized by the black-magic they drank, came sat near me. It took few minutes for my nostrils to realize the nausea smell of the black-magic, but that’s ok, that didn’t disturb me much since I was in my own world with Paulo.

In the gap between the page turn, my saccades shifted from the book and I saw this fairy.  Beautiful Alice came to my mind suddenly (Alice of ‘Alice in the wonderland’).  She was in her father’s arms, and he was struggling hard to fight the crowded passengers.  I looked at him for few continuous seconds and when he looked at me, I called him and gave him my seat, just to make that little fairy comfortable.  She should be in her 2 or 2.5 probably.  I stood; started reading again but the cute little fairy pulled my saccades to her beautiful dark, glittering eyes.  I suspended ‘Mr. Interesting-Freak’ and started observing her.

Looking at her I was wondering who taught me the so-called religion.  Who stamped my mind that I belong to the religion called ‘Hindu’ though I do not know what it is all about and why does it persist.  Who taught me to assume that if someone wearing a cross, I should categorize them as a Christian and someone with unshaved long beard or a lady hiding inside a black sheath (oh! One more question! Is black a sacred color?) Is a Muslim or at least who taught them to follow this?


That little fair, does not know all these things, which I know and got spoiled (sacredly).  My miniature fairy, my little teacher, taught me what is life should look like.  She was comfortable on her father’s lap, nothing to worry about, and nobody to care about.  A newspaper in the hands of a passenger sitting by her disturbed her.  Immediately, she dragged it, smashed it.  Oh! Only she could do this, and that is what I wanted to do when the same newspaper came between my eyes and the pages of my book.


She started playing with her father’s fingers, started at anybody she liked (only she could do that) and smiled at whomever she felt like smiling at (which I most of the time do not do, though the person is close to my heart).  Now she attracted everybody’s attention with her screaming, laughing, crying and she became a celebrity there.  Oh! Given a choice; whether I want to be a celebrity or this little fairy,  I would opt for being this fairy.  For no reason everybody likes her, a father to comfort her in all her discomforts, a mother to feed her, sooth her.  And she talks no language, no signs she knows but everybody could understand what she want to convey.  She conveys love in a matter of second (which I was struggling for a long time), she did only what she liked and for her alone (which I believe, none of us does), she love the entire environment because she doesn’t know what is right and what is wrong, she do not know who as to be assumed a good and who as to be a bad (which we always do, for 0/0 reasons).  
 
In fact that’s the life everybody should lead or at least I love to live.  We keep estimating others, assess other which give 0*0 satisfaction.

One of the giant got up from his seat to give me seat (since he needs to get down).  I sat next to her, started talking my language to her, which she hardly understands.  I gave my book; she refused.  I tried to kiss her; she hesitated.  I tried to play with her; she didn’t respect.  After ten long minutes of trials to win her love, I was tired and stopped the trials.  I opened the book and started reading.  Two minutes passed, I felt as if a soft, softer and the world softest flower has fallen on my thigh, O! What a feel it was!  When I shifted my eyes on the place it has fallen, I saw her kutty(little) palm on my thigh and her beautiful fingers scratching my jean.

What a feel!


It was already 10.00pm and she didn’t look like sleepy, her energy level was too high, may be because she does only what she love.  “Mr.  Interesting-Freak, what you have taught me in your very long books, my cute little fairy taught me in minutes” I thought holding the book in hand.   Possibly the books or Mr. Interesting-Freak taught me to grab the lessons from her.
Life is interesting only when it teaches something interesting.  When this little fairy grows she will be feed with her religion, caste, creed, color, differences, ridiculous deduction system, and she will be tied inside a black sheath called burkha.  I pray, let life give her the best of best, the happiness.
Talking about this cute little fairy, I remembered my little-bit-big fairy,  my girl(I was not suppose to say this, because she is not mine till now)

‘Hey! My girl, my love,
You didn’t accept me to be in your life – that’s ok,
But give me a chance to win your love,
As a baby born to you, I want to feel your motherly love
Which you’re missing from me now.. ‘
 
What teachings you have for me! 

2 comments:

  1. Probably wou will make a better writer than a Tester..

    ReplyDelete

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