TO JUMP OR NOT TO JUMP.
Travelling in local,
I see the story of a friend at office on
I too put up a post on the same;
Explaining how we should talk to each other
Or how I am always there to listen
Or how mental health needs to be addressed more.
I too use
I ask people to share things
For I know how it feels;
To be left unheard.
To have all those words and feelings
Get curled up inside your heart-
And when someone finally asks,
These mumbled emotions line up perfectly
But what comes out is,
My friend at office
Has a colleague
Sitting at the last table
In the same row as hers.
No-one remembers his name,
For to them he's an introvert.
But the last time I was there,
I noticed him
Counting the entire stairs
Up and down
To the sixth floor!
I saw his desk to be perfectly arranged,
And others tagging him to be an "OCD".
He didn't talk to anyone.
Had his lunch silently.
And left the place as quietly as he came.
But they didn't realize
His perfect desk was a veil on his messed up life;
His silence was not the lack of words but ears.
Him counting the stairs
Was his way of reassuring himself
That some things never change
And it's ok for them to be like that.
He stands on the sixth floor balcony
For a tap on his shoulder,
For a hand to catch him
For arms to hold him before he fell apart.
One fine day
He didn't need them anymore.