I have been to the hills and down to the dessert,
I have traveled far and near.
Seen the sunsets and the rises so high
Lived in freedom, cherished the fear!
- Suchi Gaur
With a sad look on my face, I sat down as I took the subway
train to the bus terminal that early morning. Living alone away from family was
getting on me and maybe that was the reason I was running away from New York
yet again. I mean, no sane person runs out of the charming magnificent NYC to a
sub urban town. But there I was, dull and dusted just trying to get some sense
as I cherished my love-hate past few months in New York.
I lived in a Spanish locality. The outskirts of Morningside
area in Manhattan were interesting to live by. The Spanish store, the Spanish
crowd, the fruit sellers calling me Senorita, the mixed Asian and Europeans
breed trying to make the city Global, everything was magical. But that day as I
sat in the train, I was on verge of giving up. Everyone and everything seemed
so aloof. It was crowded yet I stood there alone in that global city.
And, sat next to me a woman. Well, I had always been taking
the subways, smiling at strangers, waving at children and saying regular thank
you and sorry to those who helped me and those I gave trouble to as my elbow
touched them a little respectively. And amidst that heavy crowd and ever
running brigade of people, some of whom I met every day, I was lonely. I was
alone. I realized what fear meant as I realized what freedom did to me. I used
to see cheerful faces, sad faces, sleeping faces and the straight faces too as
I looked around, not offending or staring but merely observing, enough to
create an impression on me.
So, while the woman, in her late 70s sat next to me, I sat
down with my small suitcase ready to run out of the city to some solitude in
silence. The wrinkles on her face and the Spanish words she kept murmuring made
me realize how wisdom and whining links exist. I sat there quietly sulking my
ass off as she noticed me. The notice that changed the way the day was about to
move ahead.
“nombre??” she asked me. Of the little Spanish I had learnt
in the past few months and my logical brain I struggled to wonder if she was
asking me some number or my name. “Suchi”, I gave in, trying to attempt my
Spanish understanding, or lack of one. And there she started speaking. The
train journey that was supposed to be for some 25 minutes started on a dull
note and went on to chattering noises of her mixed with the subway
announcements and people rushing in and out. At few moments her voice cracked
and she stopped to take a breath. I sat there, as she spoke to me, looking in
her eyes trying to understand what she meant. I realized pretty early, she was
telling me a sad story of her life. The arms, the gestures, the emptiness in
the eyes and the hopelessness, all clubbed together to make me empathize with
her pain. After all, I was in pain too. And pain, as I know, cuts through
languages and cultures to create a bond. I smiled at her. Not a mockery or
laughter but the smile that I thought I needed. She kept on narrating and
talking in her shivering broken Spanish high and low pitches. I, sat there
quiet, listening to her.
Her station was about to come. I realized as she got ready
to get up adjusting the side pack bag on her body with the walking stick in her
hand. “seguir sonriendo” she said as she placed her hand on my head, in form of
blessing. She gave me a smile. A smile I realized was similar to what I gave
her. A smile, I found missing from many hundred faces I crossed every day. A
smile, that felt like love. It was later when I checked the meaning of what she
had said that I realized that all she asked me to do is ‘keep smiling”.
As a person who likes to find solace by running away from realities, I have always been tempted to rush back to places which help me forget the pace and find a little part of me missing from the current sphere. And so, when I think of travel, I understand that what comes along is not just the highs of new city adrenaline rush but also the lows of being connected to your roots, where you come from. Not only does travel creates a freshness but also helps you find the reasons to a lot of present realities that exist in your life, the answers to many loosely lying questions around, in your grey matter. And while thats exactly what it does to me every single time, I come back with more love that usual. Love that goes beyond two humans, love that is much deeper and long term than any other committed relationship.
The very moment that the subway incident happened to me, a Déjà vu took me back to a
similar experience I had in a village in Bihar many years ago where in her
broken rural Maithili tone a woman
just like her had asked me to smile, more often. Alone and may be lonely as I was in Bihar, I was in
New York and that very moment I realized what I ever needed, the smile, to come back to realities and cherish the present every single time. I got
up at my stop and strolled down to the bus with a smile that had been missing
for a few weeks from my face. In me she had found her punching bag, her cushion
to speak, in her I had found my smile. I realized, love, has no languages, has
no locations, no connections. You can find it where and when, you least expect it!
