The lost and found chord; By Snehashree

Updated: Mar 24

Guest writer for "mynzdream" blog

“Life is difficult.” A frail voice spoke from somewhere.

Unable to locate the sound, I looked here and there before looking to my left. There, beside me on the bench, sat a moon-faced girl, eyes wide apart but with a smile sitting tight on her face.

“Yeah, it is.” I tried clearing my throat, hesitating, or perhaps speaking the wrong words.

“Here to run some tests?” She was bubbly, I could see.

“Yes, yes.” I nodded.

“Me too. But my brother is in; I too would go inside in some time.” She smiled brighter than before.

“Okay, so is your brother fine?” I hesitated again; in a hospital, I am never sure if my words are right.

“He has to be fine; I have no one except my brother. My parents divorced and ever since my brother is working I am staying with him, instead of my parents.”

“Hmm, yeah he has to be, he will be.” I smiled at her. For a moment, I felt my pain; all that trauma within me had evaporated.

“Why the hell are we here? I am by no means even made capable. I am far behind people in the race. Do you think it’s a relay race or 800-meter sprint?”

“I think a relay, I guess. We all start differently. We are at different levels and we are left to rise with our deformities, our inabilities, and our darkness.”

“What are these dark patches inside us?” She questioned again.

“Places we don’t know, we don’t know a lot of stuff around us. The gigantic black hole is perhaps within us and not outside us.” I was touched by the child’s innocence and her unsaid struggles and was blown off to an island that was calm, peaceful, and quite a cool shade from the sun.

“Are you a writer?” She asked.

“No, right now I work in an office.” I smiled back. “I have stomachs to feed.”

“You talk like one. Why don’t you become one?” she asked me simply.

“Changing your identity is a fence so high that you need to be a high jumper to score the walls,” I replied, for I could see she was far more intelligent than my office colleagues and even the people racing down the hospital corridors. It was not my ego that felt satiated but my inner self, when I knew I was speaking to someone who could understand my way of talking.

“Hmm, my brother too says so, but, tell me, do humans make it so difficult?” She was a darling and right now I felt like giving her a warm hug.

“Are you allowed in normal places? Don’t you hide in broad daylight? Don’t you vanish in black holes?” I asked her back.

“But, I am deformed as per society’s norms, so discrimination is obvious.” How easily a rational mind can forgive. I merely looked at her.

“For I am deformed too. I am a woman and that’s a disease till now. I am wearing specs, I am not rich, I am slow, I have my reasons for being defective and you have your reasons for being defective.” I patted her back.

“Thank God, I am sitting beside you. I am learning.” She patted my back, too.

“Where are you staying?” I asked her.

“In your hotel. One floor below you.” She smiled again.

“Wow! So we can talk a lot.” I was excited for a moment.

“We are leaving today. Our work is done. The doctor asked us to come six months later. But then you can call me, this is my number.” She took out a thick piece of paper and the number was already written in it with her name and even her mailing address and her birthday.

“Wow! How did you write all beforehand? How did you know you would meet me?” I was taken by surprise for a moment.

She nodded and picked up her bag and then took out several such white cards and they were inscribed with the same details.

“I keep them with me, not that I hope I would meet good people but I know, I am certain I would meet good people.”

“How do you know?” I had never heard anyone, perhaps before this, with so many affirmative calculations.

“So much is taken from me, good people are compensations the world throws In my way and I take them for I know how much it takes to be good.”

There, her brother came out with his left hand hanging from the sling.

“Is it fine?” She asked him quickly and all her happiness drowned, giving way to something which seemed like a pain in her eyes.

“Yes, I can go to work from next week, finally we can be free.” He hugged the sister and momentarily both stood in the chaos, silently holding each other as though nothing could be more comforting than this moment.

She waved at me before leaving. It is her birthday today, June 17th, and I wished her and we had a good chat even after all these years.

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