Kindness of Stranger
Kindness
of Stranger
A beautiful memory, as fresh as the morning lilies
swaying by the cool morn; it visits my forgettable mind with unforgeable warmth.
Breathing deep in its vivid depth of remembrance, its ordinariness is what
makes it remarkable, to me. Both in form as well as in the essence, a brilliant
spark of clarity blazing amidst the murky world, it invites recollection in the
tranquility of solemn silence.
The beginning of this remarkable memory, an ordinary
memory, was the end of a fateful another. It was the time when COVID-19 had
just retreated from its ruthless sojourn, and its retreat had endowed my
reality with a sense of normalcy. Finally, I was set free. Free from the
suffocation of four walls, which were meant to protect me. There, I survived
dwelling in a perpetual echo chamber of the self, scrolling up and down, the
boiled-down version of the daily expiration of lives, desensitized by the rising cold hard numbers. It was simply
boredom retiring with a sigh, where the disconnected feeling arose out of the connectedness
of social media anchored by my old phone. As such my numb mind certainly was
uncertain. It awaited the opportune moment for my turn next, an ending of
desperation for a way out. Perhaps, it was the darkest period in my or
anybody’s life, perhaps, I, we had forgotten the reason to look forward to…life,
with hopeful aspiration. Yet, this pent-up frustration kept building up and led
me to a decision, the moment, I felt the world opening. And it became a journey,
an adventurous memory of sorts-
Near noon, I decided to get out of the suffocating room and hit the road on my trusty old cycle. The beginning of the road was well-pitched and smooth to ride. My eyes discovered an open horizon and lungs, fresh air.
No pollution, a clear blue sky, and green foliage in its immaculate state, the radiant
sun warmed my back, so it felt welcoming, and so it felt really, really good.
My travel started from Sadobato, cycling over the Dhapakel road, piercing through
red brick walls and dark gates facing each other, passing the tamed greenery of the research agriculture institute. The gentle presence of gust, its cool breeze harmonized
with the warm presence of the sun, in turn as if blessing me, as I rushed downhill.
The travel down the slope gave me a familiar boost of adrenaline, the sensation
I had missed dearly. Then I reached the slight plain of Sumeru hospital, passing
which the beginning of another hill proximate to GEMS School, began.
With all the excitement of an adrenaline-filled body
and an over-stimulated mind, I climbed the rising slope. Yet, this ascent turned
difficult as the road’s condition worsened. It was broken on the sides, and pieces
of pitched parts were missing. Thereby, with each subsequent rise, I started
feeling discomfort, accompanied by slight dizziness. It further exacerbated the
tiredness, especially on muscles belonging to my legs, arms, and back, from
surface to depth. Finally, I reached the slight rise of the hill, nearly a
plateau. Taking a breather, I stopped, yet I could not breathe properly. My
breathing started to become ragged, with my vision started to blur. I found
myself getting off my bike, and ditching it by the corner. I sat on the roadside
uncaring of the external world. I more or less saw the stars blinding my vision.
I could only close my eyes, and take long winding breaths. Just trying to
breathe, just another intake, I tried to remain calm. Still, I was overwhelmed
by the sensation of drowning. I stayed still.
Then, after some moments, a couple of strangers came
over to where I lay. Noticing my suffering so, they enquired if I needed help.
I think they even led me to rest in a shade, away from the gaze of the sun, convalescing.
Though it was hard to remember the people or their kind faces explicitly, the
impression of one of them, an old lady was unforgettable. She had even brought
a bottle of drinking water from a nearby shop. It still evokes the feeling of sincere
thankfulness. This feeling opens up with the sensation of sweetness the cool
water brought to my parched throat. It was the sweetest nectar I had ever drank, and will ever drink. Knowing not for how long with some rest, I could finally get
up and reach the summit of the hill. This time on foot. But it is another
story for me to tell.
The important part of my humble narrative is that I
am still quite unsure, whether I conveyed my heartfelt appreciation as I
should have. Perhaps, I did not truly notice when the strangers departed to their
respective destinations. But later, when I became myself, the normal me, that
fuzzy memory of being helped especially by strangers who never expected anything
in return, was priceless, a quiet reminder of human kindness. Helping just for
the sake of it, indeed made the greatest impression to me. It proved that
people still have humanity, especially in the rustic countryside, and at that
dangerous time, just post-COVID.
Bless them!
(This short piece of writing is a part of the assignment for the MA English offered by IACER, a course entitled: Prose Essays: Reading Good Writing pursued by the Author)
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