The man at the railway gate

flash-fiction-badge1Flash Fiction Challenge – Prompt 33 http://thaininvain.com/2014/08/13/flash-fiction-challenge-prompt-33/

The man at the railway gate

Isaac, the old gatekeeper at the railway gate ambled along. He got ready to close the gates of the railway at the manned railway crossing. This was his job, the only job he knew. . The 6:20 was due at any moment  It would pass by  the railway gate and he would watch it pass by. Just like he watched the other trains pass by.

He loved to  wonder who was inside. Where were they going ? Did they have families or were they loners like him ?Did they have sorrows or joys ? Was it their first time traveling ? May be there was a baby inside on his first railway trip -at  the start of a new journey. Sometimes he saw babies held by their mothers to the window and  the surprise in their eyes as they beheld the sights outside, the breeze on their faces and  hands waving in air as if they wanted to fly .

It was possible that   there was an old time worn traveller within,  like him, watching quietly as the world passed him by.  Many passengers waved at him through the narrow grill on their windows but no one knew him or his face. To them he was just the “man at the railway gate”.

No one knew he was  Isaac- Isaac who  brought  of joy to his mother when he was born. She had waited 20 years to have a child. But no one remembered his name now.

He had to run. The 6:20 was just turning the curve  and he could see its proud head as it geared up to take on the slight incline near the railway gate. Soon its green engine would pass by.

  He had been dreaming again and had wasted time thinking about his life and his mother’s. He managed to pull the bolts through just as the 6: 20 passed by.

A few minutes later saw him opening  the gates  so that the travelers by road could pass through. Some of them smiled at him and a few waved .

“ Isaac”, someone called him. He looked around. Who was it ? Who remembered him ?

It was a girl about 16 years of age, with  a school bag on her shoulders. She came up to him and gave him a toffee,with a smile. She said,” Uncle, I found out your name is Isaac. Every day I pass you by on the way to school . Today is my birthday.  I brought you some sweets.”

Isaac said, “ What is your name ?”

The girl said, “ Shebah. My mother named me Shebah because she wanted me to be a like a well, providing water to tired people.”

Issac said, “She named you well.It is the first time that some one has called me by name in a long time. Come to my cottage for a cup of tea”.

So together, they walked to his cottage, the old man with his shoulders held a little higher, walking a little brisker than usual and the girl by his side. He had time till the 8 : 30.

Blues, Blahs, Baa lambs & new Beginnings

Moonshine grid challenge 174

     I   woke up this morning feeling  blue. I had a fight with my better half last night and now I am in the “post war” period.
Reason : Hubby dearest is upset that I quit my day job “on a whim” and my career is finished. 
My argument : Did he want me to stay at a job where I could not express myself freely, where I dreaded going to work every day and where I was paid for 8 hours of work but worked   less than an hour  ?I couldn’t do it.
Hubby :  This is the reason why you never succeed in life. You have problems wherever you go. You are too traditionalistic in your views, not accommodating at all. You are amazingly talented – have a good grasp of language,  have been a brilliant student and read a lot. But you threw it all down the drains. Just because you wanted things your way.

            One thing led to another and before we knew it were each talking about how we were brought up and the very touchy issue of “parents”.
Hubby : Your parents have given up on you and your career. They don’t even talk about it any more.
Me : Then why do you keep bringing it up ?
Hubby : Because I care. No matter what happens, I care. (Water works started. How much have I tortured this man, who loves me  for better or for worse).”I am still trying to get you a job. I am speaking  to people. You don’t know with what difficulty I got you the other job.”

Me : Please don’t do it for me any more. I have surrendered everything. I believe things will work out somehow.

          So today I woke up at 3 am- couldn’t sleep any more. I opened  my blog page and tried to write. Writing is cathartic for me. But today even words failed me.
        Was I a failure ? Would things never work out for me ?
         I tried to do a SWOT analysis on myself.
Strengths : Language ( as hubby said), positivity ( never say die spirit), sensitivity , love for all living things ( especially ones smaller than me), reading, hard working, sincerity, honesty. My hubby dearest- my baa lamb- who is sticking by me even  I am an idiot. My beautiful children, the plants in my terrace garden- still green in spite of the severe summer here, the new additions to my cat family
Weaknesses : Judgmental, habit of excluding people who don’t conform to  my norms from my circle, argumentative, twisting the truth to suit my purpose especially when I am at the losing end of arguments( does it contradict with what I have written under strengths?), Extravagant, soft heart.
Opportunities : I have a blog post now and can expose my writing to the world.
Free time : Time to spend with my daughters and pets, take care of my plants and house ( badly needing my attention), the laundry, the cupboards, clothes.
Threats: I quit mid career, difficult to get a job, even freelance. Bare minimum in bank. Rejections everywhere. Hubby upset.

After writing down my feelings, now I feel better. I prayed .   I need to be like my plants valiantly living through the summer heat.

The Bible says in everything give thanks. So I did. I keep chanting like a mantra- Thank you God. Praise God. No more ill feelings to my hubby, my previous co workers, any one.
Life is  about new beginnings, starting today.  I believe things are going to happen- in my favor- I will get a new assignment. At least people at ” yeah write’ will read what I write and that is something.