Between Silence.

Two women sat next to each other. The bus moved slower than usual today; the fog was dense. December is a tough month here. The winds are harsh, the rains merciless and roads too full of gutters. No one could see a thing beyond ten metres; even the ten was tough. And drivers who know the condition of the roads are way too careful. They are responsible for lives; a lot more than the number carried by the bus.

Mercy chechi leaves the office by five everyday;  calculating the minutes left before the Kondody bus leaves the bus stop, she walks in haste. She was forty-five, dark and like the most women of her age ‘fat’ because no one bothers about the mothers look. She had the look of a person in constant struggle. The lines on her forehead spoke in agreement.  And at the bus stop, she was always worried whether she would get a seat as her legs would complain about carrying her otherwise. She said a silent prayer every time she left the office.

The sky was dark. It looked as though sun hasn’t been around for years. Everything looked grey; even the greenery around was wrapped in a tint of grey. This disturbed her. Anu would be home by now; school disperses at four. Mercy chechi couldn’t help but think of what Anu would have for tea, whether she would turn off the gas properly or close the door as  soon as she is home. She held a lot of fears for her child; she was afraid of everything when it came to her only child. If she was late one day, that meant the neighbours  phone would ring a thousand times before she reaches home. There was no one to look after Anu. Her father came home late, and at times he never came.

She shared her seat with a stranger today. Usually it would be Annammamma, the village office clerk. She is on leave today; her son is back home. They would share stories, sometimes eat the fried groundnuts Annammamma buys or simply look out and admire the view. The mountains had a way of healing Mercy chechi believed in! The stranger wore a bright yellow salwar, the kind you get only in towns. No one here adores bright hues; people are always satisfied with the dullness that loomed in their lives. She noticed the woman; her ornaments, the shoes she wore and the packet of tissue she held. It looked as though the woman was sneezing all the way; or perhaps was crying. Mercy chechi couldn’t make out.

Mercy chechi gave her a smile; the one meant for strangers. And she returned a dim, half-alive smile. That granted Mercy chechi the freedom to look out and not bother about the nearly twenty five, fair looking young woman who was crying in between. Things were normal between them!

Her name was Tara. The kind of girl who stood out because of the finer qualities she owned. Her kind eyes were spoken about mostly. Her caliber in pulling a crowd together was appreciated everywhere. She had more well-wishers in her college than one would usually expect. No one held grudges for that beautiful human being; her soul was that pure.

Life can change in a second. The fragility of human life is this. It just takes a moment to alter things, it just takes a second for things to go wrong. Sometimes the winds hit us so hard that we lose our ground and stand lost. But then and there, a few lucky souls find a grain of hope to hold on to. Blessed are the ones who did not have to give up.

Tara was in love. In the kind of love within which you get lost blissfully. Arun was the kind of person who made us realize there is still hope left in this world. But destiny is not as kind as we assume, it takes away the things that we deserve. It takes away that part of us which will stay void forever. And it did take away Arun from her.

Past all the mourning, she decided to take a journey. And this time without her mother. She left her mom at home yesterday and promised her she would be back safe. Like Mercy chechi and Anu, Tara and her mother were the only family they owned.  Often we don’t realize the common ground we share with every stranger we meet; we walk past them as if they don’t belong to our lives. Just like that, Mercy chechi sat next to Tara looking at the beautiful lights from the sub-station at Vandiperiyar. It was almost six now.

The silence between them was lightened only by the dull smile they shared. It was a smile of understanding now. And thus relieving.  Sometimes the souls recognize the struggle and forces the heart to extent a hug , which due to social conditioning, often reduces to a smile.

Tara stood up when the bus came to halt at Kumily. She looked out and the unfamiliarity of the place made her eyebrows go up. The bus stand was alive; a lot of people getting down from different buses and a lot of people searching for their buses with huge luggages and few others who walked relaxed, as if their lives were too easy.  Mercy chechi signaled her to get down as people were waiting behind them. And once out of the bus, Tara greeted the stranger she had met  with a warm smile and Mercy chechi, gave her back a smile of concern. And that smile gave her the strength to find a KSRTC back to Ernakulam.

Two lives now stood touched by nothing but mere silence, and their journeys resumed, with a bit of added hope.