Stranger is a person with whom one has had no personal acquaintance.They are strangers because we don't get to meet them. They stay strangers because we choose not to meet them.We do recognize them as we see some of them everyday. These are the ones we can claim to know and miss.
Waiting for the office transport at a bus stop, I used to check my watch daily by the presence of a middle aged gentleman. He would keep pacing between a tree and a bench till his ride arrived. His restlessness calmed me down as I would know I was on time. He always wore sunglasses, even on cloudy days. Sometimes his head used to turn towards me and stay for longer than a casual glance. May be noticing my perpetual frown, just like I noticed him.
Under the tree used to stand three children with their mother. Children, who were somehow always charged with energy, pulling at each other's bags and water bottles. Ruffling each other's hair. Talking loudly and their mother stiff with agitation and praying for the school bus to arrive. Her lips pursed and anger wielding in her eyes.
Then there was this Air Force officer who used to walk straight and proud in his uniform with a briefcase always in his right hand. He would cross the road then scan each and everyone at the bus stop. Nod at a few people and wait patiently, standing, never sitting down on the bench.
My favourite though was a St.Bernard. Large, brown and white, red drooping eyes and a face like a sand bag. It walked its owner. The owner thought otherwise. The St.Bernard used to pull the leash whenever and wherever it wanted to stop, halting the owner in mid inertia. The owner embarrassed at his helplessness and always masking it with a smile would be jerked again into a walk, whenever the dog wanted to move again.
While we waited, an elderly gentleman wearing a golf cap would walk out from a lane and stop after every 15-20 steps. He would walk and stop, resume walking and again stop, and so on. Never ever did he miss even a single day.
Most disturbing was this person who appeared to be made of concrete. His body language never changed, arms folded across his chest, face blank and expressionless, eyes focused on some distant thing. Always at the same spot as if he was transfixed there. He was always there when I arrived and my ride always came before his, so never saw him move. Sometimes he freaked me out by being so motionless.
Stangers, yes! But they meant a lot to me as these were the people who eased my nervousness everyday. I could relate to them, they were the ones who imparted familiarity to a new city. Their absence used to make me a little lost as they were the ones who calmed me down as I reached the stop, piercing my way through a sea of unknown, alien faces.
So I checked on them daily and wished them well.
Waiting for the office transport at a bus stop, I used to check my watch daily by the presence of a middle aged gentleman. He would keep pacing between a tree and a bench till his ride arrived. His restlessness calmed me down as I would know I was on time. He always wore sunglasses, even on cloudy days. Sometimes his head used to turn towards me and stay for longer than a casual glance. May be noticing my perpetual frown, just like I noticed him.
Under the tree used to stand three children with their mother. Children, who were somehow always charged with energy, pulling at each other's bags and water bottles. Ruffling each other's hair. Talking loudly and their mother stiff with agitation and praying for the school bus to arrive. Her lips pursed and anger wielding in her eyes.
Then there was this Air Force officer who used to walk straight and proud in his uniform with a briefcase always in his right hand. He would cross the road then scan each and everyone at the bus stop. Nod at a few people and wait patiently, standing, never sitting down on the bench.
My favourite though was a St.Bernard. Large, brown and white, red drooping eyes and a face like a sand bag. It walked its owner. The owner thought otherwise. The St.Bernard used to pull the leash whenever and wherever it wanted to stop, halting the owner in mid inertia. The owner embarrassed at his helplessness and always masking it with a smile would be jerked again into a walk, whenever the dog wanted to move again.
While we waited, an elderly gentleman wearing a golf cap would walk out from a lane and stop after every 15-20 steps. He would walk and stop, resume walking and again stop, and so on. Never ever did he miss even a single day.
Most disturbing was this person who appeared to be made of concrete. His body language never changed, arms folded across his chest, face blank and expressionless, eyes focused on some distant thing. Always at the same spot as if he was transfixed there. He was always there when I arrived and my ride always came before his, so never saw him move. Sometimes he freaked me out by being so motionless.
Stangers, yes! But they meant a lot to me as these were the people who eased my nervousness everyday. I could relate to them, they were the ones who imparted familiarity to a new city. Their absence used to make me a little lost as they were the ones who calmed me down as I reached the stop, piercing my way through a sea of unknown, alien faces.
So I checked on them daily and wished them well.
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