Everyday Inspiration,Day Sixteen : Mine Your Own Material

Day Sixteen : Mine your own material


“The Things We Leave Behind”

During our lifetime we accumulate a whole bunch of things, some are valuable others are something we got due to our habit of possessing it at a certain time. These things do not have any place in our heart, they were important because we saw someone else had it and the enjoyment they got by having this material thing. After sometime it lost its value and we were ready to get rid of it, because in our mind it was taking the space we didn’t have.One such thing I had was a tennis ball, I saw kid’s my own age have fun with it, I longed to have one like it. I requested my Dad for one, he went out the door to get one because his daughter asked for it. What happened to that thing I have no idea, perhaps I lost it while playing with it and didn’t care. I had my fill, I probably looked for something else to entertain me.

During all these years from childhood to adult stage, I had a few playthings but none gave me as much pleasure as a human friend.

The friend was the woman who delivered milk everyday. She had a big heart, she’d sit beside me everyday to ask me how I was. I was a chatterbox, I talked without stopping, not with everyone I met, but some people who I thought were nice to me.

Sarwar Jan was one of those people who made sure to sit and talk  with me at least five minutes or more if she had more time.

Some days I’d be very quiet which concerned her, she always called me Bibi, ‘what’s wrong? she’d say.

I’d turn my face away from her and reply,’Nothing.’

She had her own children, maybe she read my mind. All of a sudden she’d tell my mom, ‘Tomorrow I’ll bring a cup of milk for Bibi, I do not want money for it, it’ll be free for my Bibi.’

Sure enough next morning Sarwar Jan would bring a cup of milk for me and announce, ‘this is for you, now smile?’

I’d smile and start my non stop talking. Her face would brighten up with the words, ‘See my Bibi wanted milk.’

We had a long friendship me the eight year old and she perhaps thirty or more.I don’t know how old she was, I knew she had children, a husband and her buffaloes.

Six months after my Dad passed away, Mom decided to move to Comilla Bangladesh.The person whom I knew I’d miss the most was Sarwar Jan. I’d never know anyone as kindhearted as her, it hurt to leave her behind.

I can still  remember the tall and sweet friend of mine standing  on her doorstep waving us goodbye. I probably shed a tear or two never realizing I’d never see her again!