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                                                       The Juggler
The din and tussle of everyday life is  haunting .Celebrations  what are they?
she was sitting, her back resting against the pillows which she always kept propped up against the bed stead.Her  smart phone was clanging incessantly .It was a harrowing experience  for her now.There were times when she hankered for a single clang of this demoniac instrument. The first msg beamed to her raised her palpitations to new heights.It was altogether  a different feeling .She carried it along everywhere so that she did not miss a single beap  and not be guilty of ignoring the sender.But more than that it was the fear of being left out  if she delayed responding. It fed her self esteem.She responded to each and every msg sent or any recycled videos fwd routinely.She would take time in framing  witty responses and waited with bated breath to be appreciated.But gradually she noticed that  she was  being reciprocated at the whim and fancy of the person at the other end.This started disturbing her.The small square instrument before her became the main focus of her day to day living.Its  continuous trafficking monitored her moods .Like a juggler it made her perform.she felt immensely anxious if there was no respose to her message . She went  several times over her text which she had sent.She might have been too informal  which jarred their sensibilities.
She looked at her maids who slogged all along but  sat so peacefully sipping tea. She looked with utter amazement at those who never gave a second look to this instrument but went with their work with total abandon.  The labourer,  the maids,  the petty vender .The construction worker in front of her house  working on his tools with complete absorption  singing some lore with a deep nasal sound and enjoying it  ,Its reverberations created a haunting effect in the air but she seemed to be indifferent to it. He matched the rhythm of his singing with the clang clang of his striking instruments.He was carving something out of the stones and from  some other front came some  sounds of wood sawing very softly  the crow somewhere was crowing full throatedly for its  fellow companion.And everything went  in unison creating a cadence  which soothed her frayed nerves.The air plane above flew so leisurely.Everything seemed to be at peace.Gelling together  and she the only discordant factor in the benign design of universal grace.The petty puppet of a  virtual juggler who had turned her into a creature of no substance.
She heard the cling.It was the cling of group 3 to which she had been attached. The  group administrator  was being cheered and applauded for making the lives of the members worth living and not leaving  a single moment of their lives quiet and empty.The beeps and clangs were the continuous fillers of their wide chasms left by their inheritors   who had fled the nests of these Brechetian characters who were for ever Waiting for their own Godots.

She  closed her mobile and pushed it far away from her pile of books where its sound turned into an imperceptible moan which she could ignore without feeling guilty. 

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