Sadeqa Ghazal
I wish I could show you,
When you are lonely or in the
darkness,
The astonishing light
Of your own being! - Hafiz
The old park in sector three remained
largely neglected by the local community since a new one opened in sector five.
The new park was equipped with swings, slopes, jungle gyms, and other such things
to captivate little ones and drew the evening crowd in large numbers. The old park boasted of nothing except a few
old sturdy benches which had not felt the touch of a paint brush for some
years. The running track was still intact but the garden in the center was no
longer visible in the over growth of weeds. Only one thing remained of its
former days of glory – rows and rows of carefully planted trees; gulmohar,
ashoka, amaltas, neem, eucalyptus, and others. The park was not much frequented
except by old people, seeking a few moments of quiet. Most of them had been
visiting the park since it was built. Newcomers hardly ever turned their steps
this way. That’s why the old trees were surprised to see a new visitor one
evening in early July. The regular ones looked at the newbie and thought there
was some mistake. The visitor was a young woman, in her mid-twenties. She
hardly looked at anyone as she walked on the tracks several times. After an
hour or so of walking, she sat down on a bench and looked wistfully at tress
and birds flitting among the branches. She left only when dusk spread its dark
wings on the horizon and birds came home to roost.
Then
she began to come daily. The old people grew familiar with the younger presence
and no longer treated her as an outsider. She would smile or nod to them but
she hardly spoke to anyone. One evening after her walk, she sat on a bench
under an amaltas. It was getting dark and the park was nearly empty. An old man
was slowly jogging towards her. Just as he reached near the bench, he tripped
over something and fell.
‘Are
you okay?’ she ran to him and helped him get up.
‘Yes,
seems so. Lucky I didn’t hit the edge of the bench.’
‘Sit
down. Here,’ she handed him her water bottle.
‘Thanks,’
he took a few gulps, ‘I’m fine. I tripped over a root. It’s almost dark.’
‘Happens,’
she smiled. There was no one in the park except them. ‘I must go. Take care.’
***
Next
day, they saw each other in the park. He smiled and walked over to her. She sat
on her usual bench under the amaltas. He was an old man, probably in late
sixties; strongly built and hair all grey. He seemed to be in good health as he
never used a walking stick. She could not help but ask about him.
‘Oh,
it was nothing. I should be careful. Do you mind?’ he sat beside her. ‘I’m
called Adeel.’
‘Sarah,’
she smiled.
‘Well,
Sarah. Do you want to know why I really fell yesterday?’
She
only raised her eyebrows.
‘Because
of you.’
‘No
way. You’re kidding,’ she laughed.
‘I’m
not in the habit of joking just to make small talk,’ his voice was rather
serious, ‘I have been observing you. It is nearly two months when you first
came here and you have talked next to nobody since then. But you have got an
expressive face. Yesterday you were thinking of something painful and I thought
I should talk to you.’
‘Why,
what a good face reader you are!’ she was astonished, ‘I know I am not skilled
enough to hide my emotions. But I never thought they were splashed all over my
face.’
‘As
a matter of fact, they were not. I saw them because I was looking for them.’
‘May
I know why?’
‘I
saw in your face something which does not suit a person so young. Sorrow and
despair! If you don’t mind I’d like to know what you think about while your
eyes seemingly gaze at people and birds and trees.’
She
said nothing for a few moments. Her eyes followed the movements of a myna
circling round a mulberry tree.
‘I
contemplate death,’ she spoke slowly, ‘May be death is beautiful… and it holds
comfort.’
‘And
what makes you think that?’
‘This
life. It has got nothing.’
‘I’m
sorry… but is there nothing which interests you?’
‘Not
anymore.’
‘Don’t you have any family or friends?’
‘There
are many but I’m not good enough for them,’ her voice grew bitter.
‘But
surely there must be someone you trust, someone whom you like,’ he persisted.
‘I
don’t trust people. Those that I trusted are out of my reach,’ she said in a
flat voice.
‘I
see,’ he nodded.
‘And
what about you? Seems that life has been kind to you,’ she looked at him
keenly.
‘Not
very kind, but not unkind either,’ he paused and then continued, ‘I’ve lived
long enough to experience life in many shades. I have two sons; married and
settled in Middle East. I live here alone.’
‘And
where is your wife?’ she asked naively.
‘She
is not with me anymore.’
‘Oh,
I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t
be. She left me for someone else. They are living somewhere in South Africa.’
She
looked away from him. The myna was now perched on a branch, preening
itself.
‘And
I still trust people,’ he smiled.
***
They
continued to come to the old park regularly. Sometimes Adeel would join Sarah
in her walks. Usually he waited for her on the bench under amaltas until she
would join him after her daily exercise. There was a sort of tacit agreement
between them. They never again spoke of their families or personal life. He
knew she lived somewhere nearby, may be in one of these apartment blocks in the
next lane. She thought he lived in one of these duplex houses with front lawns.
They talked on every topic under the sun but avoided personal matters.
It
was a cold grey evening in late December when Sarah came to the park later than
her usual time and went straight to the bench. Adeel was already there. A smile
was exchanged but both remained silent. The park was deserted for elderly
people hardly came out on winter evenings. Crows and mynas flitted from one
bare branch to another, occasionally making a raucous noise.
‘Won’t
you take your exercise today?’ at last Adeel ventured.
‘What’s
the use? I don’t know why I do this. Running in a circle, going nowhere, finding
nothing. It’s all futile,’ she spoke in an agitated voice, ‘I don’t know if
I’ll ever find what I’m searching for.’
‘Do
you know what you are searching for?’
‘I
guess so… I want to be at peace, with myself, with this world and with people.
But I think it’s never going to happen,’ she fell silent and looked away. Her
face was drawn and haggard from sleeplessness.
‘Why?’
he prodded very gently. ‘Why such pessimism?’
‘Pessimism?’
she laughed bitterly, ‘I’m being realistic. I’m not good enough for this world
and its people. I will never learn their ways. They speak one thing and mean
another. I’m not good at deceiving and lying. I’m not diplomatic. I’m not good
at recognizing people. I believed in friendship, trust and love. I thought
these are the things that mattered. But people don’t need them.’
She
paused and then went on, ‘And what good have I done? I’m good for nothing. I do
what everyone else does…eat, work, and sleep. I don’t think I’ve done anything
that counts. People think I am a gullible fool and they are damn right.’
There
was urgency in her voice. Her eyes shimmered. She blinked rapidly and looked
down at her hands in her lap. He gave an imperceptible nod.
‘Nothing
hurts a good soul and kind heart more than to live amongst people who can’t understand
it,’ he spoke slowly, ‘Has it ever occurred to you that maybe it is not all
your fault? May be you’ve not found any one of your ilk?’
‘It’s
not weakness to help or trust people. It’s a priceless gift. How barren would
be life without mercy, trust, and love?’ he went on, ‘Those who think that you
are helping them because you have nothing better to do are ignorant of their
blessings. They are to be pitied, not despised.’
‘But
it hurts a lot when someone betrays,’ there was a catch in her voice, ‘You
know, I’ve lost my best friend. We have been together for ten years in school…
and now she thinks I’m in her way. I don't know why I give such a long
rope to people who pretend to be my friends. I've been very upset last week
when she behaved in a very callous manner. She even lied to me. She wants to
get a job in which I’m not interested at all. But she feels otherwise. She
never told me she had applied for it. I might have even helped her to get it. I
tried to talk to her but she feigned ignorance. It was an act of deceit I never
expected from her. I'd have gladly parted ways if she had said that our
friendship can't go on. She chose deception instead. If the world is full of
people who love hypocrisy I wonder if I'll ever find a true friend.’
‘Some
people lack the courage to be straightforward, my dear. May be she wanted to
leave you and used this opportunity just as a ruse. Life is indeed hard for
most of us, and many, if not most, of us develop a hardness that we hope will
be equal to what we face. A hardness and a self-protective shrewdness. If
we lie, we do it in the name of a greater 'truth', which is that above
all we must survive! But a few - like you - choose otherwise. You choose to
be loving and truthful. You choose to trust everyone until and
unless they give you reason to be otherwise with them.
That
is your burden - and, I hope, your reward. Without congratulating yourself for
this, you will have the pleasure of knowing that never did
you knowingly deceive anyone; never did you speak ill or falsely
about them. That you loved all those who offered love or friendship to you; and
as for the deep love you hoped for, you waited patiently for it.’
She
was staring ahead, into the clear blue sky. There was a distant look in her big
brown eyes.
‘You
know, I’m afraid I’m growing apathetic. I’m getting indifferent to people.
What’s the use of taking it so much to heart? They are not going to understand
anyway.’
‘I
wish you’d never suffer from apathy. You have a soul capable of love and
sympathy,’ he said earnestly, ‘It’s not your nature to be indifferent.’
‘I
hardly think so. I have very deep
insecurity as to whether I even deserve to be loved!’
‘You
know, you are doing a great wrong to yourself. You can’t help loving your
family and friends. You are, no doubt, a very capable young woman. So frank and
free from ego. Why do you think that your own family or friends can help but
love you?’
She
opened her mouth to say something but paused.
‘There
must have been occasions when your parents stood for you,’ he prodded gently.
She
merely nodded in affirmation.
‘Then
what makes you think it can’t be like before. They and you belong to each
other. True love never fades and what love can be truer than that of a parent?’
‘How
can you see into my soul like this?’ she stared at him, surprised. ‘I never
mentioned anything.’
He
smiled affectionately.
‘I
guess we are kindred souls. We share a lot without words,’ he looked into her
eyes, ‘Love can be fulfilling in itself, even if it is not returned in the same
measure as yours. It has been my experience that everyone you love enriches you
in a special way.’
The
last red streaks were disappearing from the western horizon as she rose to
leave. He also stood up and walked with her to the gate. She waved and turned
to go. Suddenly he called
,
,
‘Sarah,
please do remember that love is a gift, not a favor. You choose to give it. Why
not give it freely?’
She
nodded and walked away into the growing darkness. Adeel stared at her receding
figure and murmured, ‘Ah, a kindred soul.’
***