Pain of unburdening

Two heads are better than one and just voicing your worry might help.

There was a problem that was nagging me. Though it was a minor one, it proved to be as irritating as a fly buzzing round one’s head. Just as I was mulling over how to swat it, my friend called. “Busy?” she asked, cheerily. “Not really. I was just wondering how to deal with a tiny problem,” I answered. “Don’t you know two heads are better than one?” The question was accompanied by a little laugh. “It isn’t one of international importance,” I rallied. “All the same, just voicing your worry might help,” she encouraged, undeterred. Accordingly, I went to her house to meet her. Her daughter welcomed me. 

“Mother has gone to the corner store. She will be back soon.” When I was seated, she regaled me with hilarious anecdotes. Just when we were laughing uproariously, my friend breezed in, evidently frazzled. “You two chat while I make some tea,” offered the daughter and gravitated towards the kitchen. As if on cue, my friend started off. It was obvious that she was worked up. And when she saw me, all her pent up emotions surfaced. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She just went on and on and on. 

First, it was a harangue against auto drivers who apparently made a habit of fleecing her. (That way, I am fortunate. Except in the rarest of rare cases, I have found them to be honourable gentleman, well-spoken and considerate. And the ease with which I find autos has earned for me the nick-name of ‘auto Rani’ in family circles.) Next, there was tirade directed at the domestic help who had caused her much heartache. I understood that apart from being irregular and having no sense of time, she was demanding and cheeky. “To crown it all, she behaves as if she is doing me a big favour!” My friend was so aggrieved that my heart went out to her. I made sympathetic sounds accompanied by understanding nods. That seemed to assuage some of her lacerated feelings. 

Then she launched on how difficult it was to run the house with a bunch of individualistic persons, none of whom was amenable to reason. I did appreciate the difficulties she had to face on the family front but she was so distraught that I forbore pointing out that the situation was not an uncommon one. There was a break when the tea arrived. When the ceremony was over, I said I had better be getting home. 

It was then that my friend was conscience-stricken. “This meeting was for you to share your problem with me. And all I have done is unburden myself,” casting me a guilt-ridden glance. “Not to worry,” was my smiling response. “It has resolved itself!”

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