
As I waited for the clock to strike 5 p.m., carefully watching to see if the bus from Zurich had arrived at the Novi Sad Train Station, I found myself observing the people passing by.
Iâve always loved watching these small, everyday interactionsâpeople saying goodbye or greeting each other. Thereâs something profoundly beautiful in those moments: countless hugs, promises to return, reassurances to call when they arrive, and the classic, âSay hello to the family.â Parents send off their children with hearts full of hope, letting their love venture out to learn and grow. I see young couples, eyes brimming with joy, gazing at each other as if nothing else exists. A grandmother waves to her grandson, who holds back tears, wearing his best smile so she wonât be saddened by his leaving. And then the familiar sound of an announcement echoes from the platform, urging passengers to hurry and board; at that moment, everyone rushes forward as if on command. Itâs a kind of salvation because, without that final call to board, I believe they might all dissolve into tears.
As I looked on, a face emerged from the bus with a searching gaze, already scanning the crowd for me. When I waved, his face lit up, and tears filled my eyes. I hadnât seen him in a year. I wanted to run to him out of sheer happiness. We hugged as tightly as we could, and then he began to cry, too. My brother. Immediately, he told me Iâd lost weight (he teases me about it every time), while I laughed that heâd gained weight (though, of course, he hadnât). Then came our playful argument about where weâd eat, who would pay, whether we should go straight home to see Mom and Dad or take a walk to catch up.
That was in February 2020, four years ago. Now, I wish I had run to him, even if it embarrassed him a bit. I wish weâd taken that walk, just the two of us, hand in hand.
He didnât like flying and always preferred taking the bus. How many times did he pass through the Novi Sad Train Station? How sad he would be to see it all ruined now.
Iâm writing this because, on November 1, 2024, around noon, the old canopy at the Novi Sad Train Station collapsed. Sadly, there were casualties and injuries.
This tragedy has once again moved all of Serbia, releasing a wave of profound emotion. I say âonce againâ because this is just one of many terrible events weâve endured in our country. And those responsible must finally be held accountable, though they always seem to find a way out.
At the end of the day, itâs those who lost loved ones who suffer the most. Nothing in this world can replace their embrace, their laughter, their gaze.
Let this be a powerful reminder to focus on what truly matters. So next time, run toward your loved one without hesitation. Donât hold back, donât be ashamed. Because that last hug will be the one you remember most.
ââââââââââââââ-
ĆœelezniÄka stanica
Dok sam Äekala da sat otkuca 17h, i pomno gledala da li je stigao autobus iz Ciriha na odrediĆĄte na ĆœelezniÄkoj stanici u Novom Sadu, posmatrala sam ljude koji prolaze.
Inace volim da vidim interakcije ljudi kako se pozdravljaju kada odlaze ili dolaze. To su neke posebne emocije. Puno zagrljaja, obeÄanja da ce se vratiti, da Äe se javiti kada dodju i ono klasicÄo-puno pozdravi ostale Älanove porodice. Tu su naravno i roditelji koji ispraÄaju dete, sa verom i nadom puĆĄtaju svoju ljubav da putuje i edukuje se. Pa vidim i par mladih i zaljubljenih, sa oÄima punim sreÄe gledaju jedno drugo. Baka mase unuku. Unuk guta suze i nabacuje najbolji osmeh koji ima da je ne rastuĆŸi odlaskom. Potom se cuje dobro poznati zvuk objave sa perona koji poziva pitnike da poĆŸure i da se ukrcaju i svi kao po naredbi pohitaju. To mu dodje i kao neka vrsta spasa, jer kada ne bi postojao taj poslednji poziv za ukrcavanje, pa sigurna sam da bi se svi od tuge raspali.
Dok sam tako rasejano gledala ljude, videla sam i jedno namrgodjeno lice koje mene traĆŸi Äim je izaĆĄlo iz autobusa. Kada sam mu mahnula, ozarilo mu se lice i meni su suze krenule. Nisam ga videla godinu dana. Htela sam da trÄim ka njemu od srece. Zagrlili smo se najjaÄe. Potom je i on zaplakao. Moj brat. Odmah mi je rekao da sam smrĆĄala (svaki put me zadirkuje) i da niĆĄta ne jedem ja njemu da se ugojio (iako zapravo nije). I onda prepirka gde Äemo jesti, ko Äe platiti, hoÄemo odmah kuÄi da vidi mamu i tatu ili da proĆĄetamo i ispriÄamo se.
To je bilo u februaru 2020. Pre 4 godine. Sada ĆŸelim da sam potrÄala ka njemu i da ga bude blam zbog toga. Da smo proĆĄetali samo nas dvoje ruku pod ruku.
On nije voleo avione i uvek je pre birao autobus. Koliko je samo puta proĆĄao ĆœelezniÄkom stanicom u Novom Sadu. Koliko bi bio tuĆŸan da vidi kako je sve uniĆĄteno sada.
Ovo piĆĄem jer 01.11.2024 oko podneva se uruĆĄio stari deo nadstreĆĄnice na ĆœelezniÄkoj stanici Novi Sad. Nazalost ima preminulih i povredjenih.
Taj dogadjaj je opet pokrenuo celu Srbiju i lavinu burnih emocija. KaĆŸem opet jer je ovo samo jedan u nizu od uĆŸasnih dogadjaja u naĆĄoj zemlju. I krivci zaista moraju da odgovaraju. Iako se svaki put vispreno izvuku.
Na kraju dana je najgore ljudima koji su izgubili voljene u tom dogadjaju. Jer niĆĄta na ovom svetu neÄe zameniti njihov zagrljaj. Ni njihov smeh. Ni njihov pogled.
Neka ovaj dogadjaj bude veliki podsetnik da se fokusiramo na ono sto je najvaĆŸnije. Zbog toga sledeci put potrÄite u susret voljenoj osobi. I nemojte da vas bude sramota. Jer taj poslednji zagrljaj Äete pamtiti najviĆĄe.
