I have known this woman for as much as the beginning of her time. I have seen her transform from a toddler to a girl and now to a woman. I have seen the best of her, the worst of her, her passion, her insecurities, her smile, her tears, her dreams, her friends, her family, her happiness and her pains. As much as I know about her, she also have blind spots I am not sure of her.
I can’t recollect much of her childhood because I was engrossed in mine. In the chorus of “doctor” ambition in her little compact classroom, I saw her shouting at the top of her voice. She was chanting doctor as her ambition just as everyone was doing. She wasn’t unique. She wasn’t different from others. She didn’t standout even as a child. She was one of the students of her class. May be she did want to become a doctor or she didn’t want to, I never got to ask her that question because I don’t even know if she will recollect what she said ages ago.
If there was a movie on life, she will not be the lead actress. She may be in one of the streets where the movie is directed, but she wouldn’t be even in the script. The world doesn’t revolve around her, it revolves around the sun. And she is very far away from the sun, at a distance safe for warmth but not too close to the sun to get burnt.
I think she wasn’t planning on becoming a doctor because she isn’t one now. If she wanted to be she should be by now. I never got to ask her if she didn’t become by choice or if she didn’t work hard enough or if luck didn’t work in her favour. I never got to ask her what she really wanted to be.
The last time I met her she was crying about her broken heart. I just wiped her tears and let her lean on me. But I never got to ask her who broke her and how much it hurt. It did look bad, because she was trying to smile despite the tears. Or was she wondering if the hearts she broke hurt that much, but I never got to ask her.
And again I met her yesterday in the streets. She was wearing a smile among the crowd. She was wearing a headphone, I don’t know what she was listening to. Or was she just wearing it without actually playing anything in it like in old times? But I never got to ask her. I was trying to wave to her among the crowd. She turned away. Did she not see me? Or was she avoiding me? But I never got to ask her.
But as she walked away, her steps looked lighter. Her shoulder less tensed. May be she isn’t crying anymore. May be she is happy now. But I never got to ask her. May be I will ask her when we meet next time.
P.S: random wandering thoughts & for writing pleasure
Wandering Thoughts 