Muddy
Morning
The startling sound of my alarm broke the stillness of my
room, at precisely half past five, knocking me out from my deep, sweet slumber.
I made a face at my mobile, and as always caught myself wondering how quickly,
almost cruelly time flies by when we are asleep.
‘Ignore the alarm and go back to sleep, honey’ I heard a
husky, alluring voice whisper.
“Wake up! You should be heading to the park!” barked a loud,
hoarse voice.
“It’s okay if you miss…”began the alluring voice. I muted it
and crawled out of my bed grudgingly. I splashed the cold water on my face in
an attempt to wash away the imprints of the hangover. I changed into my walking
outfit and tied my hair into a ponytail. Then I wore my watch, took my mobile
and stepped out of my house.
Nearly fifteen minutes later, I reached the park. It felt
refreshing to be in the park after a long, strenuous week. As usual, I focused
on anything but my walking. My eyes swept across the park capturing few kids
chasing each other, senseless adults on the swings which are meant for only
children under ten, the familiar good looking uncles exercising vigorously and
a group of elderly men engrossed in a discussion about politics.
Half an hour later, when I was done with my walking, I left
the track and began searching for a place to sit. I noticed that most benches
were wet owing to last night’s rain. I walked towards a particular bench. I was
too busy viewing the bench that I didn’t notice how muddy the ground was. It is
hard to explain what happened next… My left leg was firmly fixed on the ground,
but my right leg skated away without really getting the consent from the other
leg, leave only from my other body
parts… and so, my left leg eventually gave in and I landed right on the muddy
spot. Balancing my weight on my right palm, I quickly retrieved myself from
that awkward position and sat on the bench.
I looked around to
make a quick survey of people who might have witnessed my fall. Nobody came
rushing towards me to lend a helping hand, no ‘Are you okay’ from anybody.
Thank god for small favours. Such actions would have only added to my embarrassment.
I looked down at my right palm which was
smeared with mud. I wiped it with my kerchief, gingerly. Then I wiped my tracks
in quick, calculative movements so as to not catch anybody’s attention. I
studied the muddy ground and wondered if I could have avoided the fall had I
been more careful. I tried to act normal; wore a casual expression on my face,
trying hard to ignore the tornado of embarrassment that was uprooting my
self-confidence.
After a while, I glanced at my watch. I had spent fifteen
minutes sitting, which meant it was time to leave. That was when I encountered
a new, unique problem.
I couldn’t lift myself from the bench. No, I didn’t break a
bone, no bruises, not a body part in pain. Yet, I couldn’t accomplish that
simple task.It was solely because I didn’t have the courage to do it. Okay, I
know this might seem kind of funny to you. But step into my shoes for a moment and you know why exactly I felt that
way. The moment I stand, the stains on my track pants would be clearly visible
to the people around, they would start wondering how I got it stained, and the
ones who had seen me fall would actually smirk at me and keenly watch how I
walk, hiding the embarrassment, and of course, I would certainly receive a lot
of unwanted glances from the others too.
But I refused to give up so easily. I kept telling myself ‘Act
like an eighteen year old, act matured!’ That did some effect on me, because I
began setting countdowns. ‘Okay, on the count of three, rise up! And then I
tried a different approach… ‘When the seconds hand reaches ten I will stand up’,
I promised myself. The countdowns ended; and the seconds hand never failed to
reach the number I specified, but the task in hand remained unaccomplished.
After around ten minutes, I realized I was fighting a losing
battle. So, I called my dad and narrated the incident and told him about my
inability to stand up. He offered to pick me up, and I reluctantly agreed. I
felt slightly better, but couldn’t kill the nagging sensation that kept
reminding me how I was being such a pain in the neck all the time!
For the next few minutes I kept contemplating on why I was
always running into trouble and acting like a jerk.
After what seemed like ages, my dad turned up. He looked
sort of tensed and upset. He certainly had misinterpreted my problem of not
being able to rise up; He and my mom had conjured the image of me being in
severe pain and had thought I had probably fractured my bone.
“No, dad, I just fell down and got clothes stained badly. That’s
all...” I told reassuringly.
“What actually happened?”
I quickly narrated the incident on the way home. I apologized
profusely for being such a nuisance.
Once we reached home, my mom started yelling at me for
frightening them unnecessarily. Dad, who had been relatively less agitated, got
inspired by my mom’s temper and started yelling, too. I stood still, nodding at
their suggestions, grudgingly. No, things didn’t end there.( Not so fast!)
Apparently, they had been talking to my brother (who is in
US) while I had called to inform about the mishap. So, this meant that it was
my brother’s turn now. My brother began by pointing out to how I had
overreacted for such a silly issue. I
grunted. ‘Why can’t anyone empathize with me… why do the dearest ones not
understand my feelings?’
At one point of time, all three of them were shouting
suggestions. ‘Ugh! The stains on my track pants are way better!’ I thought.
But, as my brother continued to talk, it slowly dawned upon
me how I should have dealt with it in a more sensible manner. I felt small
waves of peace gently hit the shore of my mind. If anyone is capable of having
a calming effect on me, despite being a few thousand miles away; it is my
brother! No, he doesn’t use sugar-coated words, nor does he tell a few harmless
lies to make his little sissy feel better. Instead he uses logic to do the
magic! Yes, he very calmly, very sensibly tells the facts… Not always the ones
I want to hear, but the truth no matter how ugly it might be, certainly is
transparent and simple. Transparency brings a sense of serenity to our minds.
He very clearly told me how I should have thought about the possible
alternatives instead of freaking out, how I can’t possibly sustain in the cruel
world out there if I’m going be affected by such petty issues.
However, after around five minutes, we were discussing books
and movies. When he hung the phone, I had almost forgotten that embarrassing
incident!
But, we always have these ugly reminders around to haunt us,
don’t we? I stared at my dirty pants, making a mental note to wash them later.
Nevertheless, I felt
my usual self returning. In fact, after breakfast I showed my parents a
deliberate demonstration of my fall. They had a hearty laugh over it…
The other thing that I realized was, how important it is to care less for what
others think of you. I know, this is really hard. But take a moment to
recollect how many times you had refrained,
from wearing an outfit that you have never tried before or from sporting your
favourite, funky hairstyle, out of the fear of being judged or hearing an undesirable
comment. Remember, if you mend your ways according to standards set by others,
you will cease to live, you will merely survive…or worse, you might end up
destroying your real self in the process. Okay! I think I have deviated a
little too much from the main plotline (I do it more often than not!)_
So, yeah, coming back to the incident, it certainly can’t
keep me away from the park…However, I wouldn’t mind staying away from the
benches for a little while…
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