Skip to main content

Love

Two friends and I were walking in the park one evening. We all live in the neighbourhood so it's fun to catch up with them, listen to stories of everyday encounters, who said what, when, where. And more.

Richard's Park has narrow pathways, so it's difficult to walk in threes. Invariably I'm running to keep up with the other two. This, in turn, involves dodging other walkers, overtaking the slow-strollers, and speedily skirting various objects located by the side of the pathways. Anyway, what all this means is that all of us walk pretty fast--which of course is great exercise. Gossip and fast talk, it's an amazing combination!

So I was doing my regular intricate stepping-around dance after my friends, when we came upon a man moving very slowly. He was coming in the opposite direction so I could see that he walked with a hand pressed to his right side. Initially I thought he had hurt himself. Then I realised he had a physical deformity--his leg was slightly twisted out of joint, so he could not walk quickly, or steadily. We passed him making his slow way around the path. A young girl was skipping along, in front of him. His daughter, I realised later

The next time we passed by this man, one of the straps on his sandal had come loose. So he was standing patiently on the path. And the little girl, she cannot be more than eight or nine, was kneeling in front of him, totally focused on doing the strap up again. They were unaware of the others walking by them, around them. They were in their own little world.

Actually I don't know if my friends noticed this little incident. Because we walk really fast, as I said earlier, so everything around us is usually a blur.

But I did see. And the sight left a catch in my throat. And it showed me what true love is.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Wasteland

Something happened over the past two days. Our next door neighbours, or rather one particular family (like all metrizens in this cramped city, we live within literally, touching distance of the others in our neighbourhood), have decided to demolish their home. Fine, so what, you ask. They see how valuable land now is. Who can blame them? But along with their home, they have also decided to kill off the two trees -- a mango tree and a coconut tree -- in their compound. I used to look at those trees from my kitchen window. The mango tree, in particular, was a welcome sight. Bunches of ripe green fruit used to hang heavily from it. Looking at it, I'd think of my home in Kerala -- of the time when I was a little girl in a white petticoat helping my father pluck mangoes as they slowly changed from parrot green to a golden reddish-yellow-orange shade. That was our annual summer ritual, you see. My father plucked mangoes using a long stick with a hook or a 'kokka' (in my collo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Morning scenes

The wind blustery Skies grey blue A light so muted Birds are quiet too We walkers go Sidestepping Couple-dancing No touching Looking or meeting Glances…Oh no!   Masks dangling From chins Below noses Hanging from one ear Or sometimes Fitting so properly Covering everything So no one can see Or know What we’re really like.   Runners running Soundlessly Iron determination Seeping through So much so   That dogs being walked Know they cannot Wag tails Or even Bark a greeting.   Two men Creating content One breaking into Hair flipping, body popping Dance Faithful friend filming In fits and starts As a security guard Sips his chai Utterly bemused.
Post a Comment
Read more

A meltdown

Some days ago, I had what you might call, a meltdown. I went from anger to intense anguish in moments. I worked myself up into a frenzy. I wanted to lash out at my family. Hurl words that would wound and scar. I wanted to hurt myself.. Physically harm my own self or something/someone else. I wanted to break things,something... Anything would do, I felt, at that moment. Just to cope with the heaving emotions inside. Just so I could make sense of what I was feeling. So, I shouted at my loved ones. At my son for something he did or didn't do. At my husband for slights real and imagined. For angry words we have exchanged over the years. For everything we have ever done to each other. Then, I shut myself up in a room Immersed myself in all that was and is torn and tormented inside And I cried my heart out. I ended up with a migraine that day. But later, when I calmed down, I felt better. But more than that, I found that my family still loves me. My young son s...
Post a Comment
Read more