Road: a short story

People always seem to be in a hurry on this road near my house. In a hurry to perhaps be on time for their meeting, to reach home after a tiring workday to feed their hunger with delicious food made by their wives, to meet their loved one waiting for them at the restaurant 2 miles off from here, or travel to someplace far, in hopes of success, opportunity, challenges or a new beginning. 

The road, too, tries to selflessly cooperate, by helping people get where they want to go, and, in the process, gets worn out, hurt, and damaged. But it does not avoid is duty of serving others. Once in a while, some people take care of it: they appreciate its service, while the more caring ones do their bit by filling the faults and fixing the damage marks. Consequently, the road, worth renewed enthusiasm, continues to guide others and lead them... Somewhere. Safely. 

I want to be selflessly dedicated like the road- give my life to caring and helping, and like the road, i too need a bit of care once in a while.

Once, I got more than my fair share. I found love. 

She came into my life unannounced, and, as my characteristic is, I wanted to help her. The joy I got from helping her became all the more addictive, and our bond disguised under the name of friendship actually helped her, and me, to get through some difficulties. 

I only tried to make her a bit more happy, a little more courageous, or so I liked to believe. I never came to know about how much I mattered. But, and this is a huge but, giving her company and seeing her smile meant enough. Giving my time-a part of my life, of myself- gave joy. 

Like all roads that eventually lead you somewhere, and do not go further by the same identity, the same character, the same qualities, I, too, had a limited role in her life. 

One day, she left. She must have reached her destination, and this road's function having ended, and my presence no longer needed, she went away. 

She must have needed a different road, to go further, to reach someplace else in the journey of life. 

I still wait here for her. I remember that wonderful journey we had, and I still look for her in the millions of faces I see, I still stop to hear her melodious sweet voice among the noise of the world, and i long for her touch to warm my heart and for her laughter to echo again. 

Maybe she'll come by again, to ask for help again, maybe to give me a chance to be that joyful road again. 
___
"If you can make people happy, do it, because the world needs more of it. "
-
Yashraj Talan. 

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