I felt it again today, the constricted feel in my chest.. no amount of water or medicine would make it go away.. it stayed.. and pained.. The restlessness. I felt it when I saw the little girl get into the car with a man in the middle of the night. She was not so little, might be in her early twenties. She looked like a girl of thirteen, lost in a big fair.. her features still has not lost its innocence, although her eyes and heart had.
Traveling at night was not my option, the darkness scares me, like there was still something lurking behind those dark drapes ready to ambush my heart. But my I.T job demands it and I don’t hesitate now. Nights to be used to be the safest time for me, locked in my house, comforted by my blanket, assured that even the slightest noise would bring my mom to my side.. I slept as a child dreaming and wondering about my own fairy tales. But now, the moment my office cab reaches my street, I search and spot the only house fully lit up and the short plump anxious figure of my mom waiting in the balcony and I feel safe again… but the little girl..!
Am I pitying her? I used to wonder.. I am not sure.. may be I do and may be I don’t.. ! As my philosophical friend calls it being chaste at heart is much tougher than at body, and in his eyes every women are the same.. not so pure..! I half agree with him, the rest half I ignore..
So I sat to contemplate, when did I feel restless before? Well I don’t remember, but I remember the first time I felt so.. I was in my teen and enjoying the first bus ride alone in my life.. I had pleaded my overprotective father for it. I got into the bus from my school, got a seat and was enjoying the view both inside and outside the bus. Faces and places equally fascinate me. In one of the faces, I saw pain. She was a girl of my age, and probably going back home from school too! Her eyes wandered pleadingly at every women in the bus, but no one saw it. The bus was overcrowded, and just behind her stood a guy too close to her.
At first I did not notice his hands, but the constant movement of those filthy hands made me look harder and I saw his hands move from the girls hip until her arm pit. She pushed them away, pinched it turned to the side, but nothing stopped him, he continued harassing her. I looked away in disgust.. the bile welled up my food pipe, I felt restless for the first time in life. I got down from the bus as soon as possible and got home in a cab. I did not know if any one helped her. But I knew that it left a deep impact in her and in me, and I still cannot forget that day.. even after 10 years..
Was it guilt then? The realization that I didn’t/couldn’t help? Or the personal fear for my own? I am not sure.. or the overwhelming knowledge of bad and evil in the world.. of what lies behind those dark drapes…
I wish to change and remove the knowledge of good and evil.. but if it leaves me… will I be innocent again..?
As this circle is like life and death.. death always comes after life.. leaves life to heel or bleed.. and then take one away. Knowledge always comes after ignorance as comprehension leaving the scars..!