Counting the cabins of a monster size cargo rail and making wild guesses on what is being carried in them, from my favourite window seat of my routine bus route to work …waiting at the railway crossing all of a sudden I see the once young and innocent girl in me on the other side of the tracks from the gaps of compartments of train, waiving blissfully and jumping high in excitement…now on toes… then on heels… for no particularly obvious reason other than the sight of the train, which is shrieking out loud whistles as it passes by “the little me” very majestically dividing the sun kissed corn and golden yellow mustard flower fields…under the blue skies that adore some scattered pinkish gray fluffy clouds with no chance of rain, and some colourful paper kites floating randomly, and some odd ones caught up in the horizontal bars of tall antenna poles and branches of old wise banyan trees amidst the clusters of big and small houses.

Once upon a time to find the universal elements was enough; to find the air and the water was exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening jog with a couple of high school friends… to be thrilled by the stars at night, while watching the summer skies before bed time with brothers and daddy… to be elated over a bird’s nest or wildflowers in spring! Once upon a time many years ago munching shamelessly on mid day snacks at any neighbour’s house and fearlessly asking for more was a form of very innocent contentment, as innocent as leaving the crumbs and leftovers in and around the plate that they served on, collecting stamps from various countries of the world in those good old days of meaningfully loving paper connections with family and friends was one way to cruise around the globe, competing with the peers for prettiest handwriting year after year in school was a very healthy way to learn spellings and develop natural flow of writing. Horsing, climbing and jumping interconnected roofs and dividing walls in-between houses kept both the minds and bodies happy and healthy in an age sans gadgets and expensive devices that busy parents of now a days’ buy for their children in heat and fit of a guilt trip.

Getting the third ear piercing done in grade nine quietly and bravely from the partially one-eyed blind tenant of a crabby yet trustworthy neighbour was a thrill of a lifetime as there was no fear or awareness enough of a remote chance of infection from the old blunt safety pin that his soon ready to deliver pregnant wife somehow managed to find in their dark and dingy attic… shooting pains in both the ears throughout that night was a very suppressed affair in anticipation of a proud display of a new set of moonstone studs tucked under the pillow safely to sparkle nicely beside the existing other two in a week or so. Coming home from school in soaking wet uniform during April showers and cheering paper boat races thickened childhood friendships and sincere sense of sportsmanship alive and breathing… real simple life!

All of a sudden that simple life has been consumed by the barrenness of a busy lifestyle within the blink of an eye and simplicity and innocence have become the most complex tasks of my life. The struggling woman in many which regards is no longer on the same wavelength with the pure, free of cost type of pleasures that I once took for granted.

The waste of life occasioned by trying to do too many things at once is appalling; it is not a daily increase but a daily decrease of being content with what I have got, rejoicing in the way the life falls naturally… the worldly demands have become major interruptions. The vicious tendencies of being profit oriented where everything is measured according to the results and I am so caught up in being more and more active to generate results where have I lost touch of that little girl who sat by her daddy on a bench with withering paint and rusted nails, by the ancient creek in order to try to paint her first sunset in grade four while daddy watched over patiently and of course with much admiration for the budding artist.

With each darkening wrinkle on my forehead, with the appearance of each peaceful moonbeam and sparkle of each sun ray… I see my experiences, challenging conditions, come and go; complications arise and fall away… I seek my good old innocence, childlike purity and abundance of eternal peace in my daily course of action but can not lay a finger on it anymore, I need it but I do not get it. Planning and implementing the trivial yet necessary transactions of life on a daily basis and to carry a thread that will guide through a labyrinth of a busy life is all powering and such a necessary evil that I find refining, improving and investing time in myself has become the most neglected aspect of my being as I grow old. Dear life can you please help me probe the ground under my tired feet to run me back to my roots… they are waiting for me, please help me find myself! Help me find that little girl please!

– Anoop Kaur Babra