So So Common Place

Here I was, so glad I could string words together and actually make sense. Yup I could serve up a poem if the mood hit me right that may or may not rhyme...but it was an honest one. As in not thought up word by word to actually match or sound jingle like.
Then I got into this habit of checking out random blogs, common people's blogs as in not established writers...and whoa!!! everyone has a story to tell and we are all writers, this fact got so obvious that I felt I fell so short in literary department...I felt ashamed to have thoughts in my own mind and a little voice kept nagging, saying "so what? probably someone else would have a better take on it and even a more interesting argument".
Well now this rambling in the previous paragraph is what is making me write further, it is to simply quiet that nagging voice. Alright so I have a very commonplace attitude and since I may very well be the only person visiting here, since this blog is just my very own "Vent Room", I'm going to be my common place self and put down my commonplace ideas and in general this blog will be one mundane stomping grounds of my whims and fancies as they are.

Beauty

Silly, volatile, tangy love
Sunny, transparent candy floss days
Lemony dappled sunshine
Sweet honey warm sunsets
Spangled sprinkled sugar stars on velvety blue evening skies
Foamy, milky, frothy high tide waves
Tickling, balmy breeze so invigorating
Silvery, grainy very soft like clouds under my toes..the tender sand
The glorious perfume of briny ocean
Salty chipped diamond tear stains
Thats me right there on the seashore
Barefoot, engulfed and overwhelmed by the beauty that is life.

I learnt being nice wont kill me......

No yesterday wasn’t a bad day. In a new place, a new town riding the bus to get to an interview that was more unlikely to be positive than not. I was taking it in my stride though and I stood waiting for my ride tuned in to my iPOD.
A while later I saw him coming my way, he walked with gusto. Soon I saw him saying, more like miming something to me. I tried the usual I can’t hear youuuuuuu I got my ears full, but it was not to be as he kept at it and I can only be that much rude.
Soon, there I was telling him which buses go from there and what not. Then the most obvious conversation maker, time wrecker and small talk initiator question was asked by him "are you from India?" and I contemplated “No Nicaragua, Uruguay” (some country he might not know about so he couldn’t discuss it further)….anything but India. But out popped “Yes” which I couldn’t believe.
Oh yeah and this “HE” isn’t some tall, dark and gorgeous kind of he….not that if it was Adonis himself I would have reacted any other way, because when this girl is preoccupied she’s preoccupied. This was a man in his later sixties, of course from India, retired probably visiting his children here in the US and looking to make his time pass by hitting off a conversation with a DESI stranger. This happened to be yours truly today.
From there on I learnt he was a widower, retired and visiting his daughter (and the winner of the guessing game is…myself). I was making all the appropriate noises at all the appropriate moments and seriously I was beginning to feel sympathy for the old guy.
The bus soon arrived and we both boarded it and by this time I was being the studious listener and correct comment maker. I was telling my self what a great humanist I was for taking the time to be nice to this old man, who else but me would be this generous with their words and ears. He was telling me he was off to some Indian senior center and how he planned to give a presentation on spirituality and he read me his notes. By then I was so taken with my innate goodness that I actually heard the whole presentation and extended myself by making careful observations that I knew he would appreciate.
Now he had decided it was my turn to be the talker and he was asking me where I was headed and I told him where and for what (the interview). He had guidance ready for my this endeavor and he proceeded to tell me how I should present myself, extend my hand and smile even if it killed me. Then with a wink he added that having God on my side couldn’t hurt so I should think of Shiva in my mind and breathe through my right nostril 3 times and enter the interviewing room with my right foot. I was indulging him with my benevolent afore mentioned "smile even if it killed me"….smile.
He was wishing me luck in all the languages we had in common between us and asking me wasn’t I lucky that I had met him and now had this fail proof mantra for success. This was the exact moment I saw my stop pass right before my eyes and the bus climbed the bridge which means no stopping till it reaches the other side….hence the metaphorical point of no return. My only option was to stay on the bus till its last stop and then when it turned around after a 20 minute break get off on my stop.
My face must have shown it, my smile must have dropped and even when I was controlling it the near sob must have made itself apparent. Before me the old man had transformed too he looked seriously apologetic, like he blamed himself (which was pretty much true). I was more upset about my schedule being disrupted than the interview, for which I didn’t hold great expectations.
So there I was thinking "what the hey", in the least I had been an okay companion to a lonely older person and someday if I was lucky to reach that age and be well enough to get around I hope I meet someone like me on a lonely day too. I may not be a candidate for sainthood but man at least I tried to be a nice person (when I wanted to that is).