After long period of dullness, I am roaming around the park in a failed attempt to revive myself. From the slumber of numbness. While waiting for my kid to complete her evening dance class.
I see different people of different ages on the way, while I attempt or rather force myself to a short walk.
Some aged men trying to walk the meagre distance, thereby squeezing the much needed exercise for their fragile bodies.
Old women huddled to each other, gossiping about their illnesses while some others with a smiling face are active in their evening walks.
Children running around are curiously looking at the tiniest leaf amidst the big grass lawn. The full-time maids in their broken English are handling the mischievous bigger kids, while slowly pushing the trolleys which has the cutest babies with wide eyes wondering at the marvellous images and colours of this beautiful earth.
The non stop chattering and usage of phone calls people do while taking a stroll forms the silent whispers of the environment. And the very few face to face talks of people actually interacting with each other provides the much needed liveliness to the same.
The faded shine of the flowers missing their best friend who feeds them whole day and the contrasting greens of the leaves comes across pleasing to the eye. The staff workers seems to be scrambling to finish off their work and return to their homes far away dreading the thoughts of traffic and impending work awaiting at home.
I finally stop my lazy stroll and find myself a place in the white bench made of wood rods. I wanted to pen this down as the thoughts has started overflowing. A stout lady with a dash of lipstick and dressed better than me, sits near me at the other end of the same bench, ignoring the other inviting three benches adjacent to mine. I stop scribbling in my phone halfheartedly, not to miss the thought flow streaming from my mind, and also wondering whether she would find me writing on the notes app installed by default on my phone.
In my older days, I would have given my best smile luring either her or myself to start a conversation. After all we are living in the same apartment complex. The modern form of neighbours which would have constituted a society or a small village on its own in a previous century. But today I was silent. Not even a fake smile wanted to adorn my gloomy face. The words were busy playing football with alphabets and words in my subconscious mind and the throat was dry. Hesitant to talk and feeling uncomfortable I still try to pretend writing as if I was replying to an urgent message. My hands were itching to complete the capturing process and my heart enjoying its stenographer job of its own boss.
Not able to follow my mind properly and write freely, I finally get up to find another secluded space for myself and start walking like many others. Following the crowd. Walking in their own world.
