A petty matter called "Trust"!

A petty matter, a very petty matter. Pettier now, as I look back today from here, my thirteenth floor balcony, on a breezy semi-summer-semi-monsoon pretty twilight evening. Petty, but! It broke my trust. Oh, it did.

People who know me closely, friends and not-much-friends, will agree on this one thing - that I trust. I trust people, in general. "Too much!" - a few of them opines.

Yes I do. I really do. And I refuse to give that up, with anyone, unless s/he proves it otherwise. And what if they do? Well, even then, I have this huge space between trust and non-trust which is commonly called an area of benefit-of-doubt. I try to stretch its boundaries even when it comes to that. I do. I seldom have crossed its boundary, as I look back and think today.

So much for my introspection. And now, the petty matter.

This was Bombay. This was 2005. I was relocating away from my current place of stay, and I wanted to sell off my only possession in the category of "furniture", my cot. A middle-aged married couple came, saw, liked (or said so) and promised to call back in about a week. The deal was final, the transport needed sorting out, and I never thought of a booking-amount. I don't exactly remember, but I had just about two weeks or so to disburse it as I leave, and so it suited me. It was a simple affair. That simple!

But then, they never called me back. Fine, I did. A few times. They mostly didn't answer, and when they did, they said something vaguely like they were traveling, network problems, some mishaps in the family, et al. Simple, that too.

It was only after another few frantic calls, as my apartment handover day approached too near and it showed in the panic of my voice, that they really came out on the phone and said something in the lines of - we thought you'd have realised by now that we will not buy it.

That was it.

Not that it hit me monetarily. Not that I will meet them ever again, or even know that if I do. Not that it mattered much to me in any practical way I could think of. But, then! I think I had gone white back at that time. It felt like a tight slap. A tight slap! Really, it did. I mean, why didn't they just say it! Why?

It wasn't simple for me any more. 

I had trusted that some people would do something that they promised. I had trusted that they would say it if they won't. I had trusted their reasons, which were rather excuses, without a second thought. I had told everyone else who approached me on this matter that the cot is taken, and was sorry for the couple and the apparent mishap they spoke about. I didn't know the details of what they said had happened, but I prayed for them somewhere deep inside. 

I kicked myself for days together for being so stupid, so juvenile.

This one small, petty experience left in me a scar I could never get over till today. I never can, I guess. It's funny, it's silly, and more so if you hear the bargain. It was all for three thousands of rupees. 

But of course if you know, you would understand that that was not the point. That is not the point. The point is not the point. 

Trust is!

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Why am I remembering it all of a sudden?

Because, I can hear another silence aloud, and I badly, really badly, wish it strength.  I wish it strength, just so that it doesn't prove a coward again. I hope it doesn't break my trust again. I join my hands and hope.

Because, I want to continue to trust. Everyone. Oh, I so badly do!

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If you're reading this, may I request something of you?

If you've committed to something that you want to come out of, say it. For heaven's sake, say it!

Don't break a trust. Please!


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