It was a beautiful cloudy evening and wind was at its best playing around the branches of trees. On my way back home, I decided to walk, but in no time, a cloud decided it wanted to play a bit of a mischief and it began to pour; as we say cats and dogs. Unfortunately, rain always accompanies me when I am with my books and gadgets. There was no other choice than to take an auto and return. I stood under the tree for long, but no autos agreed to go. The only option left for me was to opt for a sharing auto, where instead of six people, ten are accommodated in the same space.
Sharing autos have always been a complete no-no for me. The only reason for my subtle repulsion for them is the glares from people around you, which make you feel no less than an alien. Despite being fully covered you feel naked because of the way some people stare. (Please note, this doesn’t pertain to everyone who has ever travelled in a sharing auto). And to add on to my misery are the intentional or unintentional touches that come along with speed- breakers. Then the sense of awkwardness gets coupled with disgust. However, under heavy rains it was better to get into one and reach home on time.
In such a journey, in order to accommodate more people we adjust and readjust by sitting in alternate front and back positions. I was the last to enter so the people doubly adjusted and made space for me sit. Sitting can be termed as an overstatement because actually there was no space. A better description would be that I was stuck between co- passengers who prevented me from falling down. Every time the breaks were hit, I popped ahead almost losing hold of the meager space that I was occupying. The auto was full, still having space for collisions amongst men and women. I kept looking outside avoiding my focus on the “touches.” At the second jerk, someone held my arm, I was amazed and turned around to find it was a woman in her fifties and she said “I am holding you so that you don’t fall.” I felt uneasy, but smiled and looked outside the window again. However, my mind was constantly on the contact of her hand with mine. After a couple of jerks I realized the touch was familiar.
I could sense the warmth of her hand that penetrated through the full sleeves of my shirt. It took me miles away back home, to the caressing touch of my mother; warm and soft. The way she wakes me up in the morning with her warm hands smoothly floating across my cheeks. The smell of her hands and the warmth of her touch simply got my memory refreshed. Whenever the speed breaker came, the woman held me and when it was a smooth road her grip loosened. It was definitely a sense of security that I felt due to the touch of the woman, over laden with perpetual and caressing warmth.
After fifteen minutes as the journey ended, I wanted to tell her that her hold reminded me of my mother living in another town. But instead I thanked and we parted ways. It is then that it dawned upon me, that not every touch is a reminder of disgust. In fact, it has the power to say the unsaid words. A warm hug gives a sense of security, to get engulfed in your loved ones arms, is to enter into a world of comfort and bliss. A tight goodbye hug can say “Please don’t go!!!” To hold hands is to address “Yeah, I am there always.” A gentle tap on the back conveys being proud of another’s achievements. A pious rub on the forehead is a show of love and an inherent feeling of nurture towards a person. Indeed, not all touches can be deemed as bad or invasive. In fact, physical touches can be powerful enough to touch unexplored emotions within oneself.
In this fast paced life, we often forget to express ourselves through gestures, touch and other non-verbal means of communication. These means of communication have the inherent power to express emotions and feelings far better than words can ever do. Go ahead, hold on to someone you care and reach out to their heart.