Stranger in my space

“Strangers are exciting, their mystery never ends. But, there's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends.”

To a Stranger. by Walt Whitman

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,

You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)

I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,

All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,

You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,

I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my body



You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard,


hands, in return,

I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,

I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,

I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

“Ma’m would you have coffee or tea”

I looked up the shatabdi had shot out of New Delhi and the killing hospitality begun.

It was 10yrs after marriage and for the first time I was travelling by myself. Kids at home and to a destination of strangers, the luxury of reading a book, having a hot cup of tea without having to resolve an argument, or change a diaper. I looked around.

The person next to me was a fashionably dressed Lady, I really felt dowdy next to her, my curly hair flying all over my face, crumpled cotton kurta and trouser which I had retrieved from my cache of pre-motherhood clothes, she looked at me smiled, I smiled hesitantly too.

The train landed at Chandigarh and we got off, my friend got off too. She walked up to me, believe me I felt like crawling under the benches placed for passenger, the hitch was the damn thing was broken.

“Hi, I am Gunjan’ she said, handing me a card, and book that read “Autobiography of an Yogi”

“Thank you” I said awkwardly wondering what she wanted from me.

“Did anyone tell you, that you have a beautiful face, and one of the most peaceful auras around you? I would love to have you model my clothes. Take care you are blessed.” I was so shocked.

That was a strange encounter. Stranger one was about 11months back;

I was in the hospital fighting burns injuries when an elderly nun walked up to me, and said

“Child, have you been told how beautiful you are? You are one of the souls blessed by Lord with a mission. You are not going about it; Lord is trying to shake you up.”

One thing neither of them told me, how do I know what the mission is?

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