Walking Through a Lifetime

The clouds had finally come up after a long wait. Nature was celebrating. The tree branches were dancing to a silent tune played by the wind. The birds were singing. Every moment seemed like a perfect picture painted on a canvas. The Artist sitting in the heavens seemed to be on his artistic high.



Sitting on a bench, I admired the beautiful scene. The entire park was celebrating. I decided to take a walk and let the celebrations continue. As I made my way out of the park, a light breeze blew over my face. As if the nature was persuading me to stay a little longer. But something told me that I had to walk. The clouds were still up. It hadn’t started raining yet.

I walked the road adjoining the park. On my right stood homes. Human homes. Stagnant. Still. Silent. On one side was a park where every slight detail showed some happiness and on the other side were homes, like a patch of dead grass. Pale. Lifeless. In some houses I could see little children playing, laughing and enjoying. Like little dew drops on dead grass.


Childhood. The most beautiful part in ones life. Time takes away the childhood and life kills the “child” in you. We’re born as a child, grow as a child, but in our hearts there is always a child. The world pushes us, and the child cries, but very soon it forgets everything and becomes normal. But the world pushes us again and again and again. The child eventually dies and an animal takes birth. The social animal.

Straight ahead was another patch of dead grass, another row of homes. A turn to the right, a bit of walking and I was on a long road. Trees by the side looked as green as ever. Dead leaves flew from side to side. The nature was playing a rhythmic orchestra. Out of nowhere appeared a bunch of kids, on their bicycles. Burdened with heavy bags. But still smiling. I waved to them. Some smiled, many laughed.


Day by day these kids would realize how tough life is. Eventually they will learn. Some will keep the smile on their face. Some will use it occasionally. The burden of expectations will always be heavier than their bags.


I had walked a long way with my thoughts. I could now see the seashore by my side. The clouds made the view even more beautiful. I closed my eyes and the breeze tenderly touched me. I could see many couples walking on the seashore. Hands clutched tightly. Smile on everyone’s face. Life sure does seem beautiful. It’s really easy to hold someone’s hand. Letting go, hurts. No one really knows if these hands will remain clutched to each other or will they eventually let go. I closed my eyes, vague images flashed in my mind. No matter what happens, what remains, is you and your journey.


On approaching the seashore, I let the water touch my feet. Nature shows its love to you in the most beautiful way.

In the water, I see a reflection. The reflection of a wrinkled face. A face of traveler. A traveler with no destination. Nobody knows how much more he has to walk. But the journey never stops, it always goes on…

A hand on my shoulder suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I turned back, to see a face smiling back at me. A face I’d seen 50 years back. A face that has been my guiding light. I heard her say “Old man! You forgot to take your umbrella”. I felt as if I’d seen her for the first time. She was lovely. She sure was. I hugged her. It started raining.

A journey through a ruthless world, burdens of the human life, loosing grip of many hands which were once very tightly clutched. In the end, its always worth it. It always is.