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He appeared forlorn, sitting there with his shoulders hunched over. The famous "a penny for his thoughts" moment. But I didn't want to know his thoughts. I already knew too much. He rose quickly as he was called to attention so the next case could proceed. Nothing about his usual demeanor gave away his inner turmoil as he slowly became immersed in his work. One couldn't tell a difference. Unless you knew. I watched him and smiled politely as he looked up, catching a glimpse of my face. It stopped him for a brief second, but he immediately began to refocus. He was already behind as it was and he couldn't be distracted any further. We proceeded with our work. "He always says he's working so hard but we constantly have to get him" remarked the woman who was working beside me. I didn't say anything, I just nodded my head. We did have to constantly get him, that was true. But he also worked hard. It seemed to have gotten even more difficult for him, since he came to the realization that it was not where he wanted to be anymore. He had come to that stage in his life where he had accomplished what he set out to accomplish. But was it really what he came here to accomplish before his time was up? I doubted it. He was too absent in those few moments he could steal away for himself, before he had to return to the tasks at hand. He was burned out, yes, but not that typical burn out that I encountered so frequently. He had a subtle sadness about him. People didn't pick up on that. They saw how nice he was, how caring he seemed. Truly, everything he did for others he wanted others to do for him. But I'm not so sure he was even aware of that. It wasn't a "I scratch your back if you scratch mine" attitude he had. He didn't expect anything in return for his kind deeds. But I could tell he didn't receive the same caring. Love expresses itself in eightysixthousandandfourhundred ways in any given day and he appeared to fall short on the receiving end of it. I felt sorrowed in his presence. Of course I had learned for myself that it wouldn't be to anyone's benefit to get sucked in by that sorrow. I returned his kind ways without falling prey to the savior/martyr dynamics we all so easily feed on. I sensed his elated mood on those days we had the same assignment. Yet he was also invariably saddened as certain things and people were an obvious reminder that he didn't want to be where he was anymore. But he had to be somewhere. Where, of course, would still have to be a mindset, rather than a physical place, he didn't object to if he ever wanted to experience the bliss he seemed to feel in lack of. ~•~ a beautiful milieu Image Rudra Anarja https://www.instagram.com/rudra_rabon/