The Bridge across the river in the city glittered in the citylights that shimmered through the manifold of buses, cars, two wheelers, glow signs and an occasional blinking of fireflies. Two traffic signals demarcated the bridge edges plainly. There were some benches put up by the municipality for bypassers to rest their souls. The benches too were graced mostly by the older generation frequently. There was also a pavement on the bridge road for pedestrians.

The youth was drifting aimlessly along the road leading to the bridge. Dejection was quite evident in his gait. His twisted face was clearly showing poor grace. He surpassed the honking of the vehicles waiting impatiently at the signals and continued his journey towards the pursuit of the cool breeze that flew over the bridge.

The wind blew his ruffled hair askance, but he apparently felt better. Muttering few beautiful hindi songs, he began to walk across to one end of the bridge return to another end and so forth. It had been atleast 20 minutes since he had begun his stroll in the pleasant weather. The time on the watch showed 9.05 p.m. Yet he seemed to have no concern about it. He was in deep thought.

His steps marked a beat to the songs which he was singing, now to the full of his voice. There was only the crowd which showed petty interest in his venture in the wind. Buses toiled, pedestrians bristled, but there he was all alone; but forgetting all his loneliness was a herculean task. He had heard his friend saying that the ultimate realisation of aloofness comes when you get the feeling – that nobody has time for You in this whole wide world. He however, thought otherwise.He felt,oneis never alone. Onehas blessings, memories, thoughts, and songs together to keep company.

Dampened with the brisk walk and the cherish of hissongs, he rested on the bench. The street was now becoming a bit emptier with the clock ticking away towards the night.

He checked out his cellphone and dropped his head on the back rest of the solitary bench on the pavement. He was tired, tired of this routine, tired of going around in circles over and over, he wanted change. He……..

 

 

With a sudden surge he got up, and with quicksteps boarded a bus. “Last trip hai kya bhai?” he asked the conductor.

He got the answer in negative. “Last stop dena aur return bhi diya to chalega…” He spoke with the knowledge that there are no return tickets in buses. He secured a place by the window and started gazing outside. There was a benefit in not taking the bike, perhaps you could admire the stars and look at the moon at times. He stared at the few passengers in the bus. Half of them were too tired toeven look straight, drowsiness in the eyes paving its way towards sleep. He felt warm; at least he was fortunate enough to return home early. ‘Home!!!’ Ha! he never had a home. His home was always only a “house” but never ever did he feel it to be like home-with all those strangers for roommates.He enjoyed with them, frolicked, but he felt they were dark faces only present to take treats, borrow money and have fun. The sudden screech of the bus brought him back. A speeding car had almost crushed the kid. Ah! He thought, at least I have a place to rest. The next stop witnessed a drunk couple, a young college going couple, who were perhaps on a night out but seemed to have crossed the saturation level in God knows what areas. He felt a bitter sense of irresponsibility on their part.

He began to wonder what was the last time he had had a date with his girlfriend and couldn’t remember it. Pitied on his own self, he started looking out of the window only to be faced by more thoughts of negation. The moon shone brightly but its glory had been marred by clouds blocking the clean light. “Just like my life!”, he thought.

The bus although empty by now was moving at an ominous pace. Suddenly the enginestartedmaking strange sounds.By this time it had reached the place beside the river, where he had started this last journey. The youth abruptly got up, leapt from the moving bus, ran a few quick steps, jumped on top of the steel railing, and with one deep breath, he went soaring into the black void which only depicted darkness due to the plainly flowing river beneath.

…

The sunshine on the glistening bike mirror disrupted his sojourn, he felt the sunlight gleaming onto his face. He yawned. His eyes weren’t as yet accustomed to so bright a surrounding. It took him a moment to dawn upon himself that he was wide awake from an overnight slumber, that he seemed lucky enough, he had a perfectly settled livelihood, his parents were not fighting or divorced, he had a particularly caring brother, then there was this friend of his, who made him forget gloom with her splendid little smile, had a superbly cool home to live in, and what not.

He got up, perhaps not a bad dream after all, and not a nightmare even. All he did was to succumb to the rivery winds and let them carry thoughts across bridges and make them come back with changed attitudes. All he did was to sit on the bench, drop down as if dead, not bother for a while about the traffic, on the street and in the mind; and life gave him answers,

River beside………….