Everyone is busy. I am busy too. There is always a call to return, a film to finish, something that cannot wait. And somewhere in all of this, we assume the people close to us are okay.
Because they have not said otherwise.
We ask our children about school. We ask whether they have eaten. We ask about homework, marks, the next class. All of it comes from care. But sometimes I wonder whether the child hears the question we really need to ask: how are you feeling?
Your son may have something to say and no idea how to begin. A friend may be making everyone laugh while carrying something alone. Someone on your team may be meeting every deadline and still having a difficult time. We cannot know everything by looking.
Sometimes, just ask: ‘Sab theek hai?’
Then give the answer some time. Keep the phone down. Let there be an awkward pause. If they say they are fine, let them know they can talk another time. Care should not feel like an interrogation.
And if the words finally come, we do not have to rush to become the expert. We can listen. We can resist the urge to compare their problem with ours, or explain why they should not feel that way.
Maybe they cry. Maybe they laugh it off. Maybe nothing happens that day. The question still tells them something: I am paying attention to you.
This is the kind of human moment that interests me as a writer. A person trying to speak. Another person finally noticing. Such a small thing from the outside. Such a big thing for the person who has been waiting.
Cinema gives us a chance to look closely at moments we hurry past in life. I want to make space for them in my work. I also want to remember them when I close the laptop and go home.
I am writing this as a reminder to myself as much as anyone else. Being available is something we have to practise. Especially when life is moving fast.
Today, ask someone you love. And stay for the answer.