So I am one of those weird people who tend to stare at people in public places (one of the reasons I don’t like going because this can make people quite uncomfortable). Why do I stare? I honestly do not know. What I do know is that there seems to be a process to it. Yes, staring is still rude…
I like to walk into a space and sit in a corner,where I can see everyone who comes in(some form of phobia I am told). As people come in I will look at them but in most cases will not SEE them. Until one or two of them capture my attention. From that moment on,my mind will zero in and go on a trip. This person will get a name, a career, and suddenly they will find themselves a character in a story. My eyes may remain on them for as long as it takes for my mind to get enough info for a skeleton… But I will nolonger be seeing them… So I will not be aware that I am staring until they either stare back or someone else points it out.
I must admit I like to let my mind do the rest(by the way this could happen as I go about my business. For example if it is in a restaurant, I will go ahead and order, eat or even have a conversation with whoever I am with…but my mind will have a section that is at work with someone else’s story). Sometimes a song comes to mind, or a poem or an actual “once upon a time” kind of thing.
You guessed right, I do like to play the “guess their story” game. And this is one of them. I do not remember where I saw this person(or these people that I may have decided to morph into one…) or when. But the beauty of fiction is that while it may be inspired by real people, a lot of it is still imagination. And this is why I love fiction.
I see the little girl with big dreams, a ready smile, the eagerness to learn and explore new things. I see the lightness in her step and the freedom of her spirit. As she runs to me, not watching where she steps. I see clear eyes and a clear mind, knowing only of and thinking only to give. Things are quite simple, all she had to do was cry,or laugh,or smile, or make a sound. I look at her and I see purity, I see honesty, I see trust, I see the future! Delicate,my little treasure. To be protected, nurtured, taught, and fed.
She looks in the mirror, when was the last time she did that? No idea. Everything has been so undefined,no road signs, no traffic lights. She wonders where this will eventually lead because she doesn’t see many options. When did she grow up, if you can call this growing up that is? Was she always this careless, this spontaneous, this uuuuuuuuuuurrrrghhhhhh!!!
What is the point? Fix after fix, always crisis managing, or even failing to. Does everyone else feel this way? So tired sometimes, up and ready to go other times. When will the party-funeral-party-funeral cycle end? There doesn’t seem to be a roadmap available. She’s got to chart her own way and this is where it gets tricky.
Let’s face it, she has not been down this particular road before. Not knowing what’s ahead, she moves in whichever direction seems more appealing at the time. She definitely knows where North is, but who cares when the road goes either direction? She’s got questions and no answers. About life, and family,about her relationships, about the choices she should make,whom she should trust. About how,where, what,when…and oh so many whys.
She’s spoiled for choice.Should she be the girl she sees on Tv or the one her mother says she should be? Why does society seem to expect so much and yet give so little? Should she trust the young man with kind eyes, whom she has known since childhood, or the new and mysterious stranger she’s curious about? What to study, eat,when to sleep.
All the questions she never had some years back. Every little thing seems to require a decision from her. She makes mistakes, thinking she’s making decisions.One minute she’s dancing on the rooftop, the next she’s huddled in a corner. To others she seems like a mindless wanderer. And yet she seeks direction,not that she’ll pay heed mind you.She lives day to day, because as she is coming to learn, you can not trust anything let alone time. ‘The past?’ she asks, ‘where is that? Have you got pictures? Could jog my memory’.. And of the future, ‘oooh yes that one! Let me get back to you on that sometime’.
Oh how time flies!! Has it been this long already?I can’t wait to see her, to see what has become of the little angel. Wait!! This can not be. A woman walks towards me. She looks familiar, but I don’t recognize her. The silent step, the wary look, the deep sad pools that pass for eyes. As she gets closer,I smile. Because,I know this woman. She is the little angel of not so long ago. I reach out but she pulls away, and hugging herself as if to ward off a cold draft she stares at me.
‘What happened?’ I ask,wanting an answer and hoping she’s got none because I am not sure I can live with it. She shrugs and says very quietly ‘Life’. I want to ask so many questions, but as she looks up I can see it all in her face. The dashed hopes, the disappointments, the abused trust, the broken confidences,the weight she has carried and the guilt of wrong choices.
She’s been beaten and bruised,I see the scars.
She’s been heartbroken,I see the tears
She’s been betrayed,I see the anger
she’s loved and lost,I feel her sorrow
she’s been robbed and disrespected,I hear her cry for justice.
There is a gentle strength in her. She commands without raising her voice, and do not mistake her silence for servitude or her politeness for fear. She has let go her guilt but has not forgotten her mistakes. She treads carefully, lest she fall again and break the remaining bones. She has learnt when to speak her mind and when not to,when to give her all,and when to hold back, when to take things personal and when to attribute them to human nature.
She has learnt that unpleasant though bits of her past may be, it is past. And that the events,people, and times are not to be carried on. She has learnt truth, and honesty, and that no two people are the same. And she now understands that all that was preparing her for the road ahead. That the missteps were to make her sure footed, and the rain was to wash away the dust of the road already taken.
Yes, she has learnt that it is time to say thank you and adios to all the teachers, learning partners, and audience for helping with her learning in their respective roles. As she turns the corner, a new dawn awaits. And the dreams of the little girl,take form in the learned and seasoned mind of the woman she has become.
Belinda K 