The Stone Bench

After my jog every evening, I sit awhile at the neighbourhood park before I stroll back home. A lovely stone bench gives me company as my heart rate settles down to normal. The scene around me is almost the same every time yet it leaves me with a feeling of a new experience!

I love the bench for two reasons – firstly, because it is away from all the din and gives me a view of the entire park and secondly, because it’s high enough that my feet don’t touch the ground and I am able to swing my legs comfortably.

Over the years, I have developed some endearing relationships with the other visitors to the park; it’s strange how that has happened, given that I barely speak with anyone there. And yet, you know from the smile and the way you are greeted what lies hidden in the mind – a grandfather who isn’t keeping too well; a grandmother bonding with her grandchild over a swing; a lady in a salwar-kurta and sports shoes, huffing and puffing away those extra kilos; a man who hasn’t had a very good day at work, jogging along the tracks forcefully; a group of people trying to find their equilibrium and peace through some yoga; young mothers, exasperated with their toddlers, exchanging notes on parenting; a group of senior citizens discussing the state of affairs of the country; middle aged women dissecting the mystery of life, each having  a different worm!

I’m introduced to every new entrant into this scene as the “lady who speaks of music” and I’m also informed of every sad and untimely exit. I hear voices in all tones, pitches, volumes and languages, articulating a description of life, and, paradoxically, all sounding so musical!

For those few minutes that I sit on the bench I am witness to the play called ‘Life’ and in the audience with me is the lovely stone bench.
Raga Shree, Pt. D.V. Paluskar