Bits and Pieces

I have seldom heard people telling me how my real world is all about people who love me and who care about me. The people who respect the way I am and accept me even though I am a crack egg; I was also told my life is about my family who would stand by me no matter what. But as a child when I was sitting in the class, away from home in the hostel, I was unconsciously waiting for someone who would come and crack a joke or something and take me to the dining hall and make sure that I have my dinner, which I was planning to miss, but sadly no one came. That was when I felt life is not just about people who would shower their unconditional love and care, but something more. I left my frown aside and went to the dining hall. I found every one seated in their place along with their friends and that is where I got my answer that life is a bit more than what I was told. I smiled to a face that was looking at me and I got a smile in return. I walked to him and he made some place for me to sit and I had my dinner with him. This was the first day of my hostel life which began more than a decade ago.

Life took me to places and made me experience my first day of my hostel again and again; but the best part is that it made me feel it not only in the first day of every new place I went, but almost every day I spent there. And if I can put that feeling in words then I will say that feeling comes from the opportunity that it gave me to love and respect people around me. Being loved and cared is a satisfaction in itself but for me the complete satisfaction came from the ones who let me a chance to care for them. All the times I had been out, Mom, Dad and my sister telephoned me frequently and every time I kept the phone I felt like talking to them even more the next time. I knew it was not just the talking, but the love that I could share with them that made me want even more; it happens even now. But I have been living with it since long and I know that I get over it as soon as I have someone to talk to; they are my friends around me. Nothing can match a feeling that I get when I find someone valuing my concern towards them, finding me worthy enough to share something personal or looking around for me to share a joke; it is like being a part of someone, though not very conscious but good enough for me. I got the most satisfying experience at times when people woke me up at mid of night just to talk to me, may be over the phone. It is like the feeling that someone around me feels that they possess some piece of my life and nothing can take it back from them. It is equally satisfying when I get comment ruthlessly rough, not because they hate me but feel that if they do not tell, then who will? I know they too feel the same; they do not need a formal invitation to tell me, they own a little bit of my life too. Bit of scolding for my bad habits and sometimes giving the verdict as if that part of my life’s decision belong to them; and I admire it, it gives me a chance to be a part in their life too.

I wish I could name everyone who constitutes me, but I am an outcome of a conglomerate of infinitesimally such pieces. This makes me believe that the life is not entirely mine. My life is all about being the bits and pieces of the people who are around me and who had been around me, may be just for a little while, may be for a long long time, or may be precisely for some moments and hence add to the bits of my life, and that is what I am all about; and that is what I will be all about.

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