Friday, it’s a summer evening.I am in a small square on the top of a hill, looking at the city from above,sitting on a cold stone bench.I rest on the shadow of a tree that my father knows when he was a kid in which he carved his name along with my mother’s name on trees trunk.In my hand I have a grape flavoured popsicle, bought from a old man with a little cart.His clothes look ragged and his shoes are shabby like they have some story to tell.A unique one.
I see many brown roofs down the street,that become smaller and smaller with the distance.As the distance increases taller buildings start to appear ;the horizon is full of them.I turn off my music for a while, taking out my headphones.There are some birds chirping in the square and one or two cicadas have been buzzing all day long.The popsicle seller is honking in a nearby street, the sound getting more and more distant. Cars and bikes pass by now and then,but eventually if I pay attention,I can hear the sound of the bus,farway meandearing downtown.The air smells like hot asphalt and fresh grass,smell that get mixed with the sweet artificial scent of my popsicle.In the nearby houses,walking in the streets, inside cars, in those distant building,inside buses and trains, and far beyond the horizon,there are people.I wonder who are all those people and what are their stories.
A young woman, in that very moment,is being propsed.An old man is eating foreign food. A teenager is happy after getting A+. A mom working on her dream again after sacrificing a lot for family and realizing that she has her own life too.An old lady is baking cookies for grandchildren.A boy moving to new city to live his dream.A kid drawing portrait of her mother.A couple is making love.
A couple ,in that vey moment is divorcing. An old man is dying of hunger.A teenager is attempting suicide after getting F.Dad is fired from job.An old lady is crying because his grandson passed away in bike accident.A boy feeling homesick and missed food, cooked by his mother with so much affection.
A kid lost his mother.A woman finds out she’s being cheated on.A kid find 10 bucks on the sidewalk and it makes him very happy.A girl and boy meets for the first time after years of talking online.A girl is breaking up with boyfriend.A student misses the bus and late for class.A man in his 40s dies from heart attack.
These things are happening as I have my popsicle,away from narrow range of perception. I don’t know what’s happening to everyone but sometimes I wish I could. What if I could find what makes them tinge their bone?What makes them cry? What they like and dislike?How are their homes and families? What are their dreams?Sometimes, I would like to know every person and know what makes them ecstatic and gloomy and and know what makes them who they are.
But I would be happy with one single person.Someone to sit on that bench with me and have a popsicle together.May be someone to carve my name on that tree,just like my father did😇
Sangita Tamang 