Just a weed

Inspired from an article that I read few years back.

Since most of the time I would be absolutely free I used to venture out somewhere just to kill the time. I used to take my bike and hit the road on many occasions or I used to go to the park and used to just sit there and enjoy the ambiance, gentle breeze, children play, few old people walking, some young adults sitting for hours with their loved ones; parks can be quite interesting sometimes just by observing all these things.

Last evening, I went to the park with my book, it was Durjoy Dutta’s  “When only Love remains”, I had already read few chapters and I found it quite interesting so I decided to finish the novel before I could go to sleep.

Though the park would be always full of people doing their own work, it’s a place known for its calmness but yesterday it was different, there were lot of children playing and making hell lot of noise, I was not able to concentrate on my book. I was disturbed on numerous occasions when there would be huge sound or laughter beside me and I used to look into that direction just to see a bunch of young children playing and having fun. I was getting little reckless.

Asif the huge noise and crowd wasn’t enough ruin my day, a young boy out of breath approached me, all tired of playing. He looked too sweaty and I guessed that he had played his heart out. He stood right before me with his head tilted down and said in great excitement, “Look what I have found”. In his hand he held a flower, a flower with petals worn out with not enough rain or too little sunlight. There was nothing interesting looking at the flower and I don’t know what made the young boy take the flower and show it to me. I don’t like anyone disturbing me when I am with my books, so I faked a smile at the young boy and turned away.

I thought that the young boy would understand that I am not much interested to talk with him but he came and sat beside me. He took the flower to his nose, smelled it and said, “It sure smells good and it’s beautiful; that’s why I picked it for you”. Now I had to pick that from him just for the sole reason that he picked it for me. I extended my hand to take it from him. Instead of placing the flower in my hand, he held it in mid air; it was then I noticed that the boy could not see. He was blind. My throat became dry instantly and eyes turned moist, I took the flower from that small boy who was so kind enough to give me a flower. As I took it from him, I said ‘Thank you” and he replied with a “Welcome”, he smiled and ran away to play unaware of the impact he had created on me.

I sat there and wondered how he managed to open my eyes, Perhaps he has been blessed with sight from heart. Through the eyes of a blind child, at-last I knew to see the world. The problem was not with the world, it was with me all the time, for all these time I was the one who was blind. We can always curse the darkness or just light a lamp.

I held the wilted flower close to my nose and breathed in the fragrance. While I was still enjoying the beauty of the flower, I saw the small boy with another weed in his hand and walking towards an old lady, maybe trying to change her life forever as he did to me.