Sangha had always been a long term planner. She had always known that a day would come when her little one would fly the coop and she would be left twiddling her thumbs, all alone. She’d tried preparing for the day by trying very hard to involve herself in various activities. Sangha writes. Writes well too. So, she tried selling her stories. But there were no takers. Everyone seems to be interested in ‘mind-stories.’ Sangha’s are more ‘heart stories.’ Besides, she isn’t publicity savvy. Both her physical and electronic social networking are non-existent. She doesn’t want to change either. She tried doing many other things – social work, for instance. But she found that there too it was a mind game. She could only give her heart to the venture. She couldn’t calculate, do permutations and combinations. Once she was accused of being wealthy with nothing to do, which was why she was investing her time and money to get involved.
Till her birdling was under her wing, there seemed to be no end to the demands on her time. Now the chick has grown and flown, Sangha finds time heavy on her hands. Of course, it’s a luxury to have so much time to herself. But she wishes there was some better way of using it. Today, for instance, she just enjoyed ‘standing and staring’ at trees, bees, butterflies. Faraway white flowers on a tall tree, skies half-blue, half-grey. She saw the people come and go in the eatery opposite her house and the vehicles on the road. Everything seemed very new; she had had so little time to stand and stare all these years. Sangha is happy, yet a heaviness weighs her down. Surely, she has some talent? And, certainly, she has a heartful of desire to do something worthwhile. Why then is all the time, talent and desire not able to find an outlet?