To see or not to see

So here I am, back digging my conscience about dumping my blog and not seeing her in a long long time.  Sometimes all you needed a perspective and when you get it, you feel you are in control. To get the perspective one has to  stop at once and think  and spend some real good amount of time on it. For that is when you find out things that actually matter to you. I switched my job. Took a break before starting on new work and that is when I found myself. The corporate world is cunning. It sets on a race that has no real milestone. It only gives you an illusion of milestone and keeps feeding the consumer front of our real world. I am afraid that’s inevitable for a person who decides to spend his life in a so called society, holding up the social qualities and living by the code of ” This is how it is meant to be ” books. Thanks to civilisation. So this new job apparently leaves me with some extra time to spare on long abandoned hobbies. I owe that to the proximity of my work place to my house. Trust me. You’d wish you’re office was next door. (I hate to work from home if you thought work from home is even better a solution) . So I am back at strumming my old guitar and today I finally happened to think of my blog. I hope my blog will forgive me. The best way and perhaps the only way to make up to her is by gifting her a post on the eve of Diwali. ..Having relationship with a blog works out cheap economically doesn’t it ?…Anyways here it goes. The following paragraph will say the rest.

It was just another normal day at work. I left work by the dawn of the evening and pushed my bike from inside the parking lot and rode my way to house as usual. Nothing special about the day. And I was planning on catching up with Dexter series that I’ve been watching since a month now. And then do some work later at night. These were the thoughts running through my mind when I stopped at a traffic signal.  I started telling myself that I should probably consider leaving office a bit late to cut traffic and just then I saw one person standing by the road on the foot path staring at me like I owe him something. Something that perhaps I’ve stolen from him. Something he knows for sure that I have what he’s been looking for. I am not trying to improvise here for making this any dramatic to you fellow readers.  He really had this look in his eye that he recognized something that I seemed have robbed him of . I imagine that look even now and I see revenge in him as though he wants to avenge a murder of his loved one (Blame it on Dexter Morgan. I apparently saw that look ).  He was in rags.  Looked like a small time junkie or an ex-convict. I am putting it candidly here as I felt. No offense meant to people standing on the roadside in torn outfits.  For I have seen some well to do people sporting torn T-shirts and Jeans standing on the roadside calling on cabs.  Anyways I shook the thing off my head and looked straight anticipating that the light would turn green this very second. You guessed it right. It didn’t.


Now I see this guy walking up to me. Looking me in the eye as he does and he kept the eye contact intact. All that his eyes  are telling me is “Give it to me. Give it to me”. I pretended to ignore him. And just then another bike came and stopped next to me blocking his path towards me. I thanked my math teacher who taught me probability and statistics and comforted myself saying random processes are so full of shit.  But no. It was not random. He bypassed that bike and stood next to me. It didn’t seem any random to me now. It was as though it was in written in books that I confront someone who thinks I killed his wife. It was like a one time deterministic process that God had scheduled on me, just to have a bit of fun. Whatever it was that was happening to me then was certainly not pleasing. Last time I felt uncomfortable in public was when I was asked by a guy at bus stop if I wanted some “Maja” for the night.

Next. He started staring at my left thigh. He alternated his gaze on my left thigh and my eyes. I literally uttered “What the fuck!”,  but this guy continued to stare at my left thigh. (By the way I was in jeans and I don’t have tattoo on my thighs. You can stop smiling). I checked to see what is it that he is staring at. Turns out its my mobile.  Its shape was obvious and anybody could recognize that its a mobile. Still isn’t that a bit odd?  I kept asking myself if this guy has supernatural powers that will somehow teleport  my mobile from within my jeans pocket to his. It didn’t happen. Then I wondered if this is another gay episode and if this guy is attracted to me because I am unzipped. So I double checked that too and I was clean. So what the hell did this guy want? I had no damn clue. He kept staring and I kept wondering. Finally the traffic signal gave way.

You know there is a sissy girl in all of us ? No matter how manly you are ? So I stopped a little further on the road to check if my mobile was still there. I checked my wallet in the bag. Although practically impossible for him to cut into my bag, I just wanted to double check. For I have learned that these guys have the knack for it and can get their way around anything without you noticing. Check! The wallet was also there. I said to myself “I care no more” and rode my to the house.

I reached home. I parked my bike. I dropped my sandals (Yes. I wear chappal to work. That’s me!) and went straight to my room. I was about to lay my bag on the floor in my room and I saw something on my bag that mad me very very sad. It was a banana housed in the side pocket of my bag and this pocket is towards the left side of the bag. 😦

There happens to be a fruit seller near my office. He sells really pulpy, juicy, big bananas. They come at 10 bucks a pair. I bought a pair. Ate one and kept the other in my bag’s side pocket. Now we know what the guy really wanted. He wanted something we all want. He wanted something that some people are robbed off and he wanted something that by right belonged to him. And there I was, so cynical and insensitive wondering how he was going to mug me. Do I blame myself ?  Do I blame the system ? Do I blame the crime story crew ? I have no answere. Our value system is so degraded. I saw one side of the story and believed that it is all that is there to it. I really can’t think of anything as a root cause to such low morale in me. I think it’s the mental conditioning we all go through and our past experiences that render us so insensitive to the poor.

Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam was right. The real enemy is poverty. And the only weapon we should arm is education. I feel awful to pass the blame on the system for what I did. But if that guy had only asked or even pointed with fimgers towards banana, I didn’t need to be so sorry for myself. So such is our world. The world that is internal. The one that we have created for ourselves in our minds that seem to fit the “haves”. But lets be frank. We only need to choose “To see or not to see”.





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