A story of Delhi Metro
It was just another day, I opened my eyes after a peaceful sleep of 8hrs. I was feeling just like a Dementia patient, “where I am and why I am??? (oh! the poor me).” How will I spend this long day? I don’t have anything to do. Why the hell I wake up so early? Let me sleep again.”
I hugged my pillow and closed my eyes again. Another second, I opened my eyes with a jerk. I got back to my senses, “it is not a normal day for me. I need to go for an interview today at Cannaught place”. I rushed to the bathroom.
I got ready & placed all my documents in my bag. Got out of my house and took a sharing auto rickshaw for Delhi Metro. Not because I believe in sharing or savings but I didn’t have any other option. I was sitting between the two bulky ladies. My feelings were like a poor stuffing between two thick bun slices. “Congrats I am a sandwich now”.
There I came to know, why people die due to lack of oxygen while travelling…. “Is that so?”
Ahhh..…hats off to my foolish thoughts.
Finally, I reached to the Neelam Ajronda metro station (a station of Delhi Metro in Faridabad) took a deep breath. I boarded the metro train for the Central Secretariat. That Ladies Coach was overcrowded. I was just praying to get a seat. I requested a few passengers to shift a little so that I could get some space to sit. I was lucky, I got some room to adjust my butt. I was half hanging from the seat, but I tried to make myself comfortable.
I was stressed about my interview. My mind was pondering with worries. That interview was really important to me. I was preparing my answers in my mind. Excessive stress could ruin this opportunity so I decided to distract my thoughts. I started observing other people in the coach.
“How come this girl dressed up so hideous?
“Why that girl is overloaded with makeup? Seems like she had fallen into a makeup tank intentionally.
“Did she took a bath in the morning??
Uhhh…not interested to see those weird faces. I took my earphones out of my bag and tune to some happening music and got lost in my own world.
Suddenly, the girl sitting next to my right in Delhi Metro pulled something big out of her bag. That was a sketchbook. She was carrying a small pencil in her hand. She started drawing a few curved lines. I was having no idea what she is going to draw. She was looking again and again towards an old lady sitting on to our opposite seat.
“Is she sketching that lady on to her book???”
The old lady was probably 65 years old. She was wearing an old and loosely fitted grey coloured salwar-kameez with pink coloured flowers printed on to it. Her hairs were neatly pined and tied into a braid. Her face was full of wrinkles. Her age lines can be seen clearly, even from a distance. Her skin was hanging loose as if it was melting ice cream.
I again peeked into her sketchbook and my heart got filled with amazement. It was the face of that old lady on her sheet. She was so quick with her pencil strokes.
“Seems like she is a perfectionist. What a talent. She is an artist”.
She turned around towards another girl. She was a tall, teenaged college-going girl. Standing beside the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt and carrying a big book (the book did not like an ordinary book) in her hands and reading something out of it. The artist girl started drawing the college girl on another sheet. Somehow the college teen noticed. She started behaving like a model. Clutching her legs and twisting. No wonder if she falls down on the floor.
On another corner, a girl was sitting on the floor with her friend. The sketch artist started drawing them also.
I noticed a similar pattern with her sketches. I wondered why she is not completing any of her sketches??? She made 4-5 sketches of some random ladies, but all of them were incomplete.
May be she doesn’t know how to draw further? But her drawing skills didn’t appear to be like that. She was perfect with her pencil strokes.
“Is she in a hope to meet those ladies again after some time? Is that so? Is she really gonna get a chance to see those faces again and then complete her sketches? is she really in that hope seriously?? “
But I really wanted her to complete that old lady sketch.
She closed her sketchbook and started moving towards the door. The next station was Lajpat Nagar.
I wanted to shout, “ Hey girl when you are gonna make the next sketch. But I kept my mouth shut. She was an average looking girl wearing simple jeans and plain black Kurti (Top), round face cut with an unexpectedly fair complexion, without any makeup. Her hairs were tightly tied up in a high ponytail. She was not that beautiful, but her talent made her stand high among all the beauties. She de-boarded the train and I was just wishing that someday she will get to complete those incomplete sketches. She made my day with her talent. I was happy for no specific reason.
Often we meet many temporary people in our life. Among those a very few leaves a deep impression on our heart without even making many efforts. She was one of them. She really inspired me.
We always rush after our desires to complete but still, we never get satisfied but that girl was looking satisfied with her in-completions. We should never give up on our hopes. We just need to give our best, definitely, we’ll get a chance to achieve our desires when the right time comes.
“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”