Left-Over

“I feel like a left-over….” said Inaaya, braiding her long silky dark brown hair. She sat in front of the mirror, getting dressed for work. Her sap-green hakoba kameez just looked perfect on her.

Sanjida, her widow sister-in-law responded politely to Inaaya “ we should wisely use our words my dear, left-overs can prove to be of greater/better value than the whole“ while she packed lunch box. Sanjida seemed to be a perfectionist, when she kept an umbrella neatly packed, a bottle of water and the lunch box, next to Inaaya’s purse.

Inaaya felt more disgusted upon hearing this and murmured…”Early morning and this lady had started preaching”. She then took her belongings, checked re-checked everything only to realise she missed wearing her watch. Grabbing her watch in haste, she banged the door loud and left without bidding goodbye to Sanjida.

Inaaya looked like a fairy god-mother in sunlight, niqab covering her figurine except her lovely eyes while she walked cross the road till the bus stop. Upon reaching the stop she seemed to get very impatient and checked her watch twice with every second pass by. Luckily she got into a bus which would drop her straight to work. She boarded the bus and stood in disgust and having a feeling of dejection.

She got a window seat after few stops, when she quickly took out her earphones and plugged into the radio. The RJ was running a contest on a craziest thing one has done in their childhood. When she heard few responses, a feeling of unknown happiness brought a smile to her face and she felt a relief on her muscles which were contracted for quiet sometime due to the grief she bore in her heart.

She then contemplated of her being and on what she had been doing for over years now, post graduating from school. Had she turned to a robot? Or was she ignorant of the fact that there was still some fresh air to breathe? Did she prevent herself from being well? In all essence the jigsaw wasn’t fitting right and it was her, who had to take the step, open the windows and set the curtains apart.

Mingled in her own Yeses and No’s it was a caller on the radio who shared his childhood story. He described an incident where he was going in a school van about 15 years ago on a summer day. He had observed a beggar on a traffic signal sweating profusely, but ensuring that he does not miss even a single car. Until the light turned green, he did not stop trying. The kid observed him crossing the road and saw the lights turn green, and immediately called out loud for the poor man as grandfather, in local language. He exclaims that he was so annoyed with the old man not coming nearing his van, that he kept shouting and instructed the van driver to help him wave and call for the poor man.

Once the man came near the van he quickly handed over his half eaten cake from his lunchbox, and questioned the man as to why he had missed his van. The man just blessed the child and went to a side and started eating the cake. The kid who was now a grown up called this crazy as he had scolded, shouted to reach out to the beggar just to give his left over.

However, the RJ interpreted in a different way and stated to its listeners, that this could be crazy but it gives us an idea that left-overs indeed have much more left even after its over and worth is enhanced if we share it with someone.

Inaaya’s reflexes raised her brows and she recalled over what she mentioned to Sanjida. She then made a promise to herself of sharing her distress with her loved ones and not let her senses feel left out for a few months, years which she has missed to know her worth!