Interest

105 days away from writing made me realize that the greatest gift you can give anybody is by making them feel less lonely, and more understood, even if it is for a brief time they will always choose to remember it. It will be an intangible gift for a lifetime, which will come off as use whenever the cynicism of reality is thrown at their face, your simple gesture can paint their last leaf.

I cannot explain in my strained economy of words how good it feels to be cared for even if it is as simple as taking interest in someone’s day, interest in the kind of music they appreciate, the kind of stories they share obviously after relating to, but what triumphs for me is to see someone taking interest in someone else’s interest, in their creation, in their effort and not necessarily in their outcome.

Not many can naturally be or see this way, which is what makes those few who do even more precious. The implication, however, is not in inducing yourself to be that person but in noticing if you already have one, long ignored. If you are at receiver’s end and observe someone doing these luxuriously simple tasks for you, silently creating the greatest gift for the creator-keep them close, choose to talk to them even on your days of detox, let not your stringent rules with yourself make them ever feel like taking interest in someone’s work is intrusive.

Paying attention regardless of how infrequent it is, is one of the sweetest forms to show you care. I love to see when someone actually chooses the rarity of remembering things that matter to someone else.

This post aims at telling that you don’t need melancholy to make things meaningful

It was never about liking or disliking, but always about understanding.

10:01 am Thursday.