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“And what a world it’d be if we didn’t carry the burden of our past!”
“Hah, what must be your baggage?”
“I was a traveller in my previous life and now I cannot even buy a ticket to Munich from here, I used to sail and fly and now I’m stuck in a town of the size of a box. I just wish I forget it all, what I was, and then what a beautiful city it’d be.
” Perplexed, Peter asked, “Previous life? What?”
“Yes I remember everything, and I’m sure you do too.”

As eccentric as that man sounded in that book I related with him.

To be confident that what you had felt once whether or not others believe it, and I swear it wasn’t the amongst the best books that I’ve read, but what if, what if I do, I do remember.
After thinking and analysing, I resolved I do not remember at all, I only remember this life barely, how could I remember a life before this one.

While my friends were discussing why tumor cells do not get treated with medicines and what colour of piss you do when you suffer with hepatitis B, I didn’t for once doubt I had a disease any lesser than those.

I had a disease of forgetting, no, not Alzheimer’s, but I forget all those things that made me me, or all the things that didn’t go swiftly, I had a disease of letting go, and it was easy, every time, every fucking time, until one day, all my believes had to go in bin, and I made a memory that I wouldn’t ever forget.

I yelled, “Is this yours Sir? Sir?”

He looked back, in his perfectly tailored suit, black, as the classic cult proclaims, and he looked at me and gazed at me for about 2 secs, determining if I was important enough to be answered. And yes I was, I was not in my best clothes, I wore a shirt that had stains of coffee and lips that had gone dark due to puffing cigarettes whole night,
He said, “Yes, it is mine.”
It was a tiny little bag, that looked like a women’s purse but was of leather which gave it a tough look, I signalled to him to take it from my hand, he looked hesitant, like he doesn’t want to, he looked as if he didn’t like to carry this, like a little purse was of more weight than his two trolleys full of luggage, and almost for a moment there, I thought he dropped it purposely.

I asked him, “don’t you wanna take this?”
He shrugged and then forced a smile, and said, “of course, of course, thank you!”
It was very unpleasantly awkward and I know hoped I had never seen this purse.”
“This was very kind of you, do you live here?”
“Yes, just 15 mins away, I’m catching a train to my workplace, and I’m late, but such is this country, every person is late, even the clocktowers aren’t on time, this is bizarre, so they say, time is an illusion, but I don’t know, oh shit, I’m sorry, you must go, I’ve a habit of blabbering, I would shut up now.”
“No no you talk interesting, you’re a bright young man.”
His beard was heavy and his mustache was touching his lips and every time he spoke, hair off his lips would move, it was funny, I thought I shouldn’t laugh, I shouldn’t stare at him,
“And you were saying?”
“Nothing, you lost it somewhere there, are you fine?
“Yep, so where are you going?”
And it turned out he was going to the same station and he and I shared a double seat, and talked, and I made sure he didn’t drop his more luggage.
“What’s in that purse?”
“Nothing, just wife’s stuff, it gets a little awkward to adress it as your own luggage. The purse looks so feminine.”
“Yes it does, but it’s okay, everyone understand wives are important, they straighten you up every day, damn.”
“You got a wife?”
“Had a girl friend I lived with, broke up with her the previous month.”
And in that moment I swear to my lords, I just wanted to hold that purse and cry, why does everybody else has people who care about them, I noticed his voice when he said wife and I wanted it, I wanted it to be the same with me, but she was a bitch, so..moving on.
“I’m sorry!”
“It’s okay, such is life. I’m sure you had tons of girl friends before you settled with the final ultimatum.”
“Actually, I had none, I was studious, so didn’t care about all this, then got married off by my parents, arranged.”
“Fuck, who are you?”
He pulled himself together, back straight, a little conscious, swept his sweat off his forehead and said,
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, who are you people, how do you get hold of the perfect one in one go, how do you guys do that, it’s so unfair, I’ve been crying and resenting and trying and fucking up things since forever, and you, you sir got it right in your first time.”
He relaxed knowing my topic of concern, he lifted his left leg and put it on his right, then, thought something, and altered it, puts the right on his left, and said,
“My parents were smart, my wife is smarter, I’m smartest, I do what she says, that’s all.”
His quirks were laughable, sympathetic, but I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
“Smart man indeed.”
The view was great outside of the window, this was the only reason I liked going to office, the view was great, the trees looked as if they were kissing each other, and it looked like a fucking orgy, and it was still so beautiful, dark, on a 9 am train, I didn’t care how much I was making in the office, or what models of cars were new, I wouldn’t risk loosing this time, for a pearl.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” I started.
“Beautiful, you like darkness, I’m a fan of clear skies and warm weather, but yes, scenic masterpiece, what a ride.”
He didn’t like it wholly, I was amazed, why didn’t he like it, he made it look average, how could he ruin my favorite thing in the world, he sounded so plain, it felt like he’s talking about geography. Well, in a way yes, but..
“Yes, I love this, I hold it not against you but I love this, the vivacious and the aura, oh my god, it’s heaven.”
“Heaven? What do you think heaven looks like?” his eyes twinkled like he wanted my opinion or was dying to say his.
“I don’t know, never thought about, actually do not believe in it, like a place you’d be rewarded if you do good deeds, so is any good deed is of any good, if it’s done thinking of a reward, it makes it sound everything so selfish, I do good for goodness and welfare, and not for fucking 72 virgins once I’m done doing my good karma.”
He looked offended, like I insulted him, his face turned red, but why would I ever be afraid of placing my opinion if my asked. He opened his top button, loosened his tie, took his two fingers and slid it once touching his neck, rounding it, and then began to say,
“You don’t know this world, you young people do not understand what’s it to find meaning of your life, and it’s all done by our allah, allah lays paths of your journey, you’re a traveller, just a traveller, not a builder, not a path maker for goddamn sake, you’re just a human being, this world is made by god, and he’s everywhere, he keeps an eye on you and you’re saying things like this, he shall punish you.”

His vanity had turned into agression and all was because I provoked him, I shouldn’t have done this, I felt scared sitting beside him, it felt awkward sitting beside a person so sensitive about the subjectivity of god, or of any topic, I wasn’t brought up this way, I was told to voice my views, I was told that others listen when you talk, and reason it, and I had never ever faced belief turning into faith turning into compulsion turning into enforcement turning into opression so quickly and not in front of my eyes within a matter of two seconds. I was entitled and he was arrogant and orthodox, we never could talk again. But I had to, I had to know what makes him such a strong believer.

“What..”
“Don’t say a word.”
“Sir, I’m just asking what drives you to be such a keen follower of allah, has anything ever happened to you that had made you believe in him, or are you just taught that.”
“Anything? Everything is done by allah, everything. He forbids us to say ill about him, he restrains us to be in boundaries that he had set that are right for us, we shall live in them, die in them.”
I stared at him, looked at him as if he’s downright blind, but I had to make peace with it, hehappened to be someone I haven’t ever met, and it’s a good thing, I’m meeting new people, getting new perceptions To see life through.
I talked to him, about education then, he supported it, he said, education is important for everyone, he reasoned with only income, I was happy, that he didn’t relate it with religion, a mild disturbed because he didn’t believe in passion, he only believed in worship, and said education is only to generate your rent, to stay on earth.
He was right in a sense. We didn’t share common opinions but that didn’t mean he wasn’t right in his own ways, I think he was, he was well established in his faith, and what we stood for. It was rigid, but also firm. I lacked that kind of sense of belonging to anything in this world, the way he talked about god.
I missed it, I was a kid when I last related to something so purely, I had my guitar then, now I have nothing, no tunes, no strings, only untouched symphonies and unheard silences, I was not ready to give up. I thought I’d make a new hobby, or read about something I believe in something so doggedly. I was awake, finally.
I talked to him, he told me about his children, and I told him about my last girl friend, it was happiness and depression in one conversation, he told me he had met god when he first saw his elder daughter, I said, I used to shit in my pants when I liked her and went to talk to her.
The tone, the miseries, the manners, the ideals, everything we had were different from each other, and yet when he looked outside the window, I saw a person who’s as happy about clear skies as I’m about shade. As triggered about dust as I’m, as alive as I’m.
It was finally our station, my friend had come to ย pick me up, I bid him my goodbye, and asked him if I could ever call him.
“I’m going to die today.”
“Stop kidding me, is it so bad to talk to me?”
“The purse you handed me was a bomb I had dropped off.”
Shaken, my legs were shivering, I wanted to call for help, but I didn’t, for the friendship I had developed with this man,
I asked, “Why..”
“You are still looking for meaning in your life, all these children, all of you; I’ve met mine, I must go, they’d kill me today.”
“Wha..”
“I hope if not 72 virgins, I get to experience a view like that in the train, the breeze had touched me in my soul, I can never repay you.”
ย I looked at him as he turned his back, getting away step by step, inch by inch, I prayed at that moment to his allah, to my krishna, to everyone if he could be saved.
I had saved a thousand lives.
I had saved one man’s millions regrets.
I had met the meaning, Peace.
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