The wind in my ears tells me a story. The clamouring temple bells tell me a story. The vacant spaces tell me a story. The sniffles tell me a story. The lady with wrinkled skin and frowny brows tells me a story. You tell me a story.
Now I have to choose to hear their stories. Stories of valour, of grief, of happiness, of treachery, of cheating, of success, of passion.
Each one has a tale but no takers.
Now I have to choose to hear their stories. Stories of valour, of grief, of happiness, of treachery, of cheating, of success, of passion.
Each one has a tale but no takers.
can't blame them, everyone wants to be heard and listened to, the 'great human identity paradox'. They forget how insignificant, fragile and temporary we are, as a species. But, I have been paying attention to a lot of tales lately.
ReplyDeleteYeah in the bigger picture we are insignificant, but I only see my picture. Paying attention doesn't help, it requires a response, it demands a response.
ReplyDeleteah. but I thought hearing was enough, many a people actually don't expect you to tell solution to their problems, they just want to talk about it. Is that a wrong notion i hold ?
ReplyDeleteYou don't have to give a solution but you need to make them feel heard. Just respond.
ReplyDeleteI am not sure if one can do that with words, may be I don't know how to do that. I'll rather hold her hand or share a drink with that guy to make him/her feel that I might not understand but am there. That will be my response.
ReplyDeletehm. different ways of expressing.
ReplyDeletedifferent ways of drinking
ReplyDelete