a strange meeting

Another-Rainy-Night-Without-You-950x713

      Sometimes, we face situations, when for some particular reason, on which we cannot put our finger, we feel miserable. Times, when we refuse to look in the mirror, because the person we see is ugly. We do not speak because, in the roar of voices, our words do not matter. We feel rejected because, in the huge crowd we move in, our mere presence becomes insignificant, useless and unimportant.

      But then, from where came the concept that one has to look great? Who told the world, that our words need to have an impact? Or that being insignificant and not needed by others is anything to be sad about?

     For once, I decided to let things be. Let the imperfection rule my day. Just as I was resolving this, I happened to meet a stranger, and got into an equally strange and absurd sort of conversation. There were no formal greetings as a start. I asked the stranger to define random things like faith, success and soul and kept opposing what I was told. Even more strangely, our conversation then suddenly shifted to work and weather and so it ended.

      It did not matter if the stranger was young or old, girl or boy, smart or dumb. It did not matter if anything we said made any sense at all – it didn’t have to. All that did matter was that I talked without once thinking what impression I must be leaving on the other person. The meeting was more like an escape from reality. Self deception.

      Generally I consciously avoid judging others. It’s not that difficult to let people be the way they are, as long as they don’t bite. It must be foolish on my part, but now and then, I like to pretend I’m invisible and not interesting enough for anyone to judge me. But, even if that stranger, who ever is reading this, or the people who know me, are judging me, and they might think of me good or bad, in either case……who told them they must be right?

* image is not owned by the author.