It was the month of June. Soft breezes and warm sunsets were everything at that time. I was just bracing everything that made my sweet little hometown beautiful before I left for another city. The little joys those days were to take a walk in my colony.
At the end of my colony, if I took a left turn, there were these stairs near a house. The view from those stairs was not the best, but I could see the tree that grew near the cottage-shaped house, and the sky was visible in the perfect sight. The sound of the cars, the birds, the dusk—I enjoyed it all, and especially after a rain, it felt heavenly.
One day, as I sat there on those stairs like I usually did, a boy came up to me and asked why I always sat there.
He said, “I always see you here at this time, and you sit here and do nothing and leave.”
I giggled and said, “That’s the entire point. I come here to do nothing.”
He was in 12th grade and told me about his passion for art and showed me some of his pieces. And I must tell you, they were marvellous. We spent the time talking about how art is still a growing career, and it takes time to actually grow as an artist, especially if it’s your career.
I told him how I was leaving the city for studies, and he wished me luck. We never met again after that time.
Another time, there were two schoolgirls, and after they saw me, they were curious, they said, and started talking to me. They told me about their passions and hobbies and how they lived in hostels at such young ages. It was delightful, actually, being able to talk to them and understand them.
It gave me joy—and mostly, sitting at that particular spot always gave me my sense of reflection.
But nothing gives me more reflection than talking to new people—people of all ages. Sometimes, human beings can surprise us and, moreover, teach us a lot of things. I have come across many people of all ages, and I have learned a lot.
I’ve learned that I have not at all learned anything and that I have so much more to learn—and that the learning will never end.
It’s been some years since I’ve gone home, especially to those stairs. I wonder what has changed. Did they demolish the house? Is that tree, okay? Are those two little girls alright? Did that boy follow his passion?
It’s not about where we want to be—we must first understand that where we need to be is now.
– Christina k sangma
