Tits-bits-of life--They continued the story !

Preeya knew I was up for trekking again and she would not be in touch with me for long. May be that was the reason, I witnessed 30 missed calls from her in my phone again. So she was trying hard to talk to me a thought flew over my mind.

I called her back and as soon as she picked up the phone she could not stop herself and started without any formality,"at every point I feel like writing. Writing always gives me solace. There are always as many ideas as could be flying by in my mind that need to rest. I have this weird feeling of being heard always...I always have so many says to say to peoples and I am always filled with ideas. Ahh ! Suman what do I do?"

"Hmm," I said (this was our usual way of listening).

"Sometimes I feel, would I just end up in this wall of writes or sayings? Or will my ideas, my thoughts land up as somewhere concrete?" she quivered. 

I was listening to her quietly while she was speaking in her usual tone.

"Having a bunch of ideas is always a tough thing and I always have been going through this. Life's tough Suman," she added with a long sigh.

I could not help smiling. And she knew that I could exactly depict her feels.

"You know what Preeya every single individual thrives for their individuality, stands to be something different from the other," I started slowly.

"Do you know the word 'sonder'?," I inquired.

"No, what is it?," was her prompt response.

"It is a sudden realization that everyone we see/meet has as complicated and interesting life as ours. So, how much do we really think about other people? Do we have time to do that? Similarly, what makes us think that others have time to think about us and if they really do, how boring and dull their life really is," I replied in a casual tone.

"Hmm....That's interesting," was what she could say.

I was on with the flow,"Also, I have realized that time actually travels so much faster when you live in a different society. Trying to work, finding a place to live/rent, communicating with different people everyday makes our lives so filled with tiny details that we have maneuver our ways through that we think everyday routines are petty."

"But on the other hand, people who have lived in the same place for decades, donot have to interact with different personalities on a daily basis hold on to the same old thoughts. So, usually people who have lived a very stagnant life tend to be more judgmental than the ones on the move."

"So, if you are looking for friendship that you think is neutral and supportive, find people who are always on the move, and who enjoy that kind of adventure. Just saying that if you seek some kind of openness and a good healthy relationship/friendship, careful that you dont seek it from people who have nothing else to do all day rather than edit and post their selfies on facebook. If you find more "interesting" friends, your obsession over one person that you think is so wise and cool will subside because you will know so many people that are wise, smart, generous and cool."

"I am up making friends Suman," Preeya said.

"I dont think you are up making friends- just saying that if you dont have a few friends that you can actually "talk to" and think wont judge you, then maybe you are not making "good friends", or in the right context. No one ever meets people who can fulfill all your needs- emotional, physical, mental, sexual... but lets say someone can meet your emotional needs, but not your mental- they can at least be supportive of your needs."

We were scratching thoughts as much as possible. We both were struggling with the ideas and I just tried to let her flee her thoughts with my says. I felt she could subside some of her thoughts, but still it was a long run. Life as it is.

I called upon her, but may be she had already slept. I could hear her snoring. The burgeoning thoughts might have made her tired, I smiled and let the phone cut off. 

We always have tonnes of thoughts-one residing over the other

Metta !

Image courtesy: @deviantart

Series: Tits-bits-of life-A story