When I was child I used to love traveling by trains. Sitting by the window used to be so much fun, during the day as well as during the night. I used to enjoy looking at the green fields, big piles of hay covered with a clay overcoat, goats and cattle running around in the fields and sometimes, when there was a road parallel to the railway line, I used to look at the traffic and see if anyone was willing to race with us. At night time, you can’t see anything outside but if you concentrate, you see light glows popping out of the horizon as if the sun is ready to rise.
You may even spot a number of them. These dim glows are the lights at far off places. It could be from a major city, a factory, a lonely house of a farmer who somehow managed to get a generator for his domestic use or from a mosque in a small town.
These glows used to fascinate me. I would just stare at them and wish that if I were able to fly I would fly to them. I was curious to see how many people would be there and what would they be doing, what would they be thinking. I was curious to know if I was as important to them as they were for me. I was curious to know if they ever wished that they could grow wings and come see me sitting by the window of a train, passing miles away from their town. Such a childish thought
Time passed by and I grew up. God gave me opportunities to see the world and meet people of every race, religion and language. Had experiences to groom myself, friends to cherish, moments to remember and stories to share. Now when I get to travel in a train and look outside the window I don’t get the same feeling anymore. I no longer feel the curiosity to grow wings and fly to see what lies within a light glow, miles away from our moving train. How do people live there and what are they thinking. Somehow, it doesn’t matter to me anymore.
Is this a blessing or a curse?