I was sitting in a park, habitually looking at random things—the trees, the evening lights and the couples—when an old man came and sat beside me. He seemed to be in his late 70s. I ignored and continued my sightseeing. He sat and waited for some conversation to strike up. He waited and I continued to watch things around me, everything and everyone but the old man. Finally, he could not keep his desperation and said: ‘Which grade are you in, child?’
‘11th,’ I replied with a courteous smile.
‘What do you study?’
‘Humanities. I am into Humanities. I study History, Political Science, among other subjects.’
He nodded and looked away. He appeared to be a smart person. He vibrated of vigour and gay vitality. You know, one of those oldies who claim they are still young and even stronger than the youth of today. He appeared to be one of them.
‘What have you planned for future?’
I didn’t like that question. I didn’t like to broadcast my dreams and plans to any and every person I met. So I said: ‘Well, haven’t planned anything yet. For now, I only wish to do well in my upcoming exam. Rest would be thought of once that is successfully gotten through.’
He laughed and gave me a nod. ‘I see, I see. Anyway, what does your father do?’
‘He is an author.’
‘Oh, wonderful! And you have siblings?’
‘Yes. I have a brother. He is in 3rd year at College. He is into Science.’ I replied, quite certain that what my brother did was going to be his next question.
‘Uh-uh. Good.’
The conversation was turning boring with each of his questions. Not that I didn’t like him talking to me. In fact, I liked interacting with old people, especially such alive old men like him. But I wanted something interesting to pop up. I wanted him to talk of life and philosophy, like all other oldies I had talked to, did.
‘Hmmm… You are a wise kid. Save your Energy like you do. Although I know boys your age do only what they please and generally don’t listen to their elders, still I would like to tell you: try to focus your energy only on your growth and well-being—that’s very important in life. Never direct it towards other people’s lives.’ It seemed some kind of dogma but I kept listening intently, anyway. ‘Boys your age are more inclined to show gratitude to people who, they think, care about them and Love them and want them to grow. So they spend their time and energy on them and think they have known the meaning of true love—I don’t mean the love you are thinking about, ha-ha! I mean, you kids begin to think you have met some of the people who mean “life” to you and try to “build” your relationships with them. You know, when things go wrong with you and your best friend or your girlfriend—such things are in vogue among today’s kids—you spend your time trying to make things up between you two. You try to sort it out, you see. You pray to God that things work well. And sometimes, they do and other times, they don’t. Child, whatever happens, never spend your energy like that. It’s in no way spending; it’s wasting.’
‘Yes, I see. It is nothing but a sheer waste.’ I replied, trying to sound approving and pretending that his talk was interesting me. Well, I was no longer listening.
‘So you see? When you sit back and observe the world, you will realize the sheer impermanence in the way it works. People who are here with you today may not remain with you tomorrow. As you grow older and hence, wiser, you will realize there is no point in mourning their leaving. That’s just life. They leave you with memories. And memories never go away. They may get a bit blurred as time passes, but they remain anyway. And when you make new memories with new people, the old ones just get buried underneath them.’
That old man didn’t make any sense to me. It appeared he had been alone for quite long, and had now found me to pour himself out. I liked this thought, and I would love to try harder to pay attention to what he was saying, but it was growing dark. And even if I tried, I couldn’t fix my mind on him. I was worried lest I should have to stay with him until late evening, or maybe, even visit his place. ‘If he asks me to come with him, I would politely deny, saying my parents must be worried about me now.’ I said to myself. And, out of courtesy, I sat there anyway, still pretending to listen to him, trying to show him every now and then that his words were very well making their way into my head.
He continued:
‘I will tell you my story. I must be around 19 then. I was a much sought-after guy back then. I had a lot of friends and whoever met me wanted to attach themselves to me. I was doing well in my studies, was also the captain of the football team of my college and was regarded as an excellent orator, having spoken at major national and international conferences. I didn’t come from a financially able family. My father worked in a small company and didn’t make a lot of money, unlike the fathers of my friends. I was almost deprived of the privileges that money brought but I didn’t like accepting this reality. This wasn’t anything to me. All I knew was, if one deserves it, one can fight to get it. My family wasn’t strong but I was. So, in my life, things were going pretty well and my parents were proud of me. I had a younger sister and she was proud of me, too. She used to tell her friends how amazing her brother was. So, all in all, I was a pretty amazing guy. It was during our summer break in college that I began talking to a girl who I later fell in love with. She was the first girl, even the first person that I thought I didn’t deserve to be with. We were just good friends until one evening, one of her friends came to me and said that Alena liked me. Alena—yes, that was her name!’ the old man said with his eyes closed, as if savouring some distant memory. It was already 7 o’ clock but his talk began absorbing my interest. I didn’t want him to go now. ‘I was luckiest man in the world. The girl who was the sensation of the college liked me. I didn’t want to miss the chance. So, the next day, I met Alena. She was shy and so was I. We looked into each other’s eyes and I knew I was not going to be myself anymore. I had no idea what she had in mind. The very moment we saw each other, I knew I had fallen deeply, agonizingly, childishly in love with her—I would add, hopelessly, too. We remained together for more than 4 years thereafter, as far as I remember. And in those 4 years, I had almost exploited every single cell in me, every bit of my time and energy and every quality that I had, in order that I could keep her happy. But she didn’t seem content, at all. She would always point out that we were different in some strange way. I left all my friends, started to curse my parents, since they didn’t like me being with her, and made sure I was spending most of my time with her. I just wanted her to believe that we were not different, that even if there is any dissimilarity, it had nothing to do with the infinite love that we had for each other. I didn’t have money but I spent on her things that were certainly more precious than anything money could buy. I believed that she loved me, too, until she began turning against me, slowly. I had realized that. I trusted my intuitions. 4 years of intense love had shifted all my focus and concern from myself to her. I was ready to take risks because there was this feeling inside of me, this faith that she was just as deeply in love with me as I was with her. So to me, there was certainly no reason for her to leave. But I was wrong. I saw her changing and it was more than difficult for me to handle that. I knew I was forever in love with Alena but I didn’t know she was not going to be forever Alena. I never knew loving her would teach me the most painful truth: You can fall madly in love with a person. You can sacrifice everything for them. You can be ready to even cut yourself in two if that is what it takes to see just a little smile on their face. But you never know when the person you are this madly in love with would turn against you and say they didn’t ask you to do all that for them. And know what, they would be damn right, then.’
He was narrating his story when the guard came and informed us that it was 8 pm now—the closing time of the park. The old man simply smiled and said: ‘Sadly, we have to stop now.’
It was an unwanted moment for me. I didn’t want him to leave in the middle of the story like that. I wanted him to continue. I wanted to know what happened between him and his girl that taught him such a lesson. All of a sudden, the phone rang. It was my mom. Alas, I had no option but leave.
We walked to the gate together.
‘Yes, so what happened after that?’ I said in a desperate tone.
The old man said: ‘I live in the adjacent street. You can come over if you like. I live alone. We can talk there.’
I really wanted to but I was already too late. ‘I am sorry I can’t. My mother just rang me. I really gotta go.’
‘Not a problem. I hope we meet again. Maybe we can meet tomorrow here only.’
‘I really hope.’
We came out and said our goodbyes.
The next day, I visited the park again and went to the same place where we sat. He wasn’t there. I took a whole round about the park but couldn’t find him. I went back home.
We never met again.
It has been 3 years since we met. I was 16 back then. I am 19 now. I still wish we could meet again. I don’t know if he is still alive. But if ever we meet, he will certainly be stunned to know that I know the rest of the story now. Today, I realize it had all gone into my head really well--all his teachings and lessons. They make so much sense to me today.
