Waiting....

This is a piece of writing that i came across in satyam blogs.....

It makes nice reading..! :) Do we all go through this??!??! Do we identify with this?!!?

"It was 7:45 am and I stood there in the bus stop waiting for the office bus to arrive. I stand there in the same spot as I did a few years back waiting for my college bus. Little did I know then that things would change so much in 1 year; the tree under which I was standing seemed to be looking at me and smiling, perhaps the only living thing that stands as a testimony there, watching the transformation of a loud and bubbly person into a quiet professional!

I wouldn't blame the professionalism for the change though.

It is destiny, or maybe you could call it life.

Yes Life, esoteric in the true sense, for one does not understand why you meet hundreds of people every day, work with so many, and still remain lonely. I am now in one of the corner seats in the bus, looking out of the window watching people trying to catch up with "life"! It's an hour's journey and the only company that I generally have is the chatter of the RJ. I seldom notice the person sitting next to me, for its going to be yet another stranger or maybe you could say another acquaintance. It is annoying at times when the radio is switched off, not because I am cut off from the melody but because I would now be thrust with the thought of the solitary travel ahead. I can't help thinking about the short bus journeys to college, well it's a paradox to call a distance of 40 kms "short", but that is how it always seemed. A typical college day always begins in the bus with all the familiar faces; you look forward for all your friends to get in from the various stops, the reasonless giggles, the loud laughter that were stifled to avert the eyes of the lecturers and professors who would watch on us as if we were their prospective prey for the day, well as I said it was a different life then.

The pleasant memories of college are in itself good enough to save me from the misery of the bus journey. I notice that it is time for me to get down and flash my smile of acknowledgment to all the known strangers that I see as I walk towards my cubicle. A few of my project mates greet me with their morning wishes and as always, we exchange our pleasantries. Discussions jump to the weekend plans and I wonder what I'd do over the weekend. It would be just another day staring at the mobile, wishing it would ring and bring back some wonderful moments that are now missing in life or maybe the safer option would be to come to office, for it's my new founded asylum these days.

A few years back, weekends or weekdays didn't matter to me, I was always busy. I always stood doubting the authenticity of the wall clock that seemed to be in running too fast to perceive its movement. Alas, now it seems as though my clock is suffering from some kind of paralytic attack.

There is a time in life, where one needs to go ahead, leave behind all your friends and carry along only memories. You do make friends, but then you never get back the same old close ones, you do meet people who'd be so good to you that you could tell them anything and everything, but you'd not find a person, to whom you needn't say things, friends who just know you.

Occasional calls from such friends, has been the only thing that I seem to look forward to, but I cant help but notice the uneasy pause that lingers around the conversation, pause not because of the relationship, but because it is too short a duration to say everything, and of course you cannot completely rule out the paucity of words!

As I sip coffee from the ubiquitous coffee mugs, watching the drops of rain, trickling down the tinted glass panes, veiling the scenic beauty outside, I tell myself, may be there'd be a day when things change, when life offers a rewind, a recap of all the events, and I'd just have to wait.

Capricious are the ways of life, for I know there would be many who'd be able to empathize with me, ironically, even the dear ones that I miss this moment, waiting perhaps. . . ."