At every stage or moment we meet different people. Based on societal and professional norms, all seem to be at different levels, at different planes. In an office, one can be employee, while the other employer. Amongst the employees as well some can be officer, while the other can be subordinate to the officer at different levels. With these designations we characterise each person distinctly. Their work category, their looks, their gender, their attire, their attitude, maybe sometimes their religious beliefs, all of these and many other factors when amalgamated create boundaries amongst each individual. These boundaries often get so deep that we stop thinking that inspite of all these distinctions we are still so similar. It is like skeletal algorithm, where if you keep removing the dark pixels, you will find a skeleton that is connecting all of us.
Why I am saying this is because only a few days back I experienced this personally. My mother sent me a picture of herself wearing a new saree that my mother-in-law had gifted her. I don’t know why but I felt the urge to share her picture along with a caption that “the misery of adulthood is that you get to see your parents often through pictures but physically only once in a year”. I think at that moment I was only missing seeing my parents doing their regular daily chores, as the last that I met them was almost 7 months back.
But with that status came the replies of so many of my colleagues and friends who are also sailing this boat of adult life. Each one of them in one way or the other expressed the same emotion of not being able to see their parents as frequently as they wished they could. Those simple messages helped me in seeing each of them not as students, faculties, colleagues, friends, etc., but as humans who are all so deeply connected through these emotions. Someone may find these overanalysis vague or uncalled for, but for me those were some really nice messages. Afterall home is the most special feeling of all. Ending the article with a poem which my friend Lalit sent that day.
हे सजीले हरे सावन,
हे की मेरे पुण्य पावन,
तुम बरस लो वे न बरसे,
पाँचवे को वे न तरसे,मैं मजे में हूँ सही है,
“घर की याद” – भवानी प्रसाद मिश्र
घर नही हूँ बस यही है,
किंतु यह बस बड़ा बस है,
इसी बस मे सब विरस है,
Aali Pant 