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#dontjumptoconclusions
It’s drizzling But it doesn’t matter. I am running, Around the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium At Kochi. The ground is wet, There are water patches around. So, I take careful steps. As I go around, I see a young man, In a hoodie, And track pants. He is talking, On the mobile phone. Standing beneath an awning. Must be to his girlfriend, Because he is smiling. I think to myself, ‘What a wastrel. Do some exercise. Get fit’. But he is oblivious. During my next lap, I see, A friend has joined him. ‘Two wastrels’, I think, As I start panting. My middle-age lungs, Are aching. But I like the suffering, Because it makes me feel good. When I stop. On my third round, They are peeling off their track pants. I run on.. The drizzle has eased up, A cool breeze is blowing. My perspiration-drenched forehead Gets some relief. Running triggers Something primitive in me. This is what man did, For thousands of years. Before the invention Of the wheel. I can hear the thud of feet Hitting the ground Behind me. It sounds like heartbeats. Then these two young men, Whom I derided, Whizzed past me At high speed. Smooth electrifying movements Of hands and feet. ‘What?’ I exclaim silently in my head My perception was Oh so wrong. They are athletes, And they are swift. And they splash, Through the puddles. Fearless. So I had simply Misunderstood them. That’s what happens to all of us We misunderstand People. Places. Communities. Religions. Spouses. Children. Parents. Relatives. Is it any surprise, Society is so fractured. I feel like a fool Message to me: don’t jump to conclusions, Ever.
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Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020 at 11:47 PM UTC
Lessons in the drizzle
It’s drizzling But it doesn’t matter. I am running, Around the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium At Kochi. The ground is wet, There are water patches around. So, I take careful steps. As I go around, I see a young man, In a hoodie, And track pants. He is talking, On the mobile phone. Standing beneath an awning. Must be to his girlfriend, Because he is smiling. I think to myself, ‘What a wastrel. Do some exercise. Get fit’. But he is oblivious. During my next lap, I see, A friend has joined him. ‘Two wastrels’, I think, As I start panting. My middle-age lungs, Are aching. But I like the suffering, Because it makes me feel good. When I stop. On my third round, They are peeling off their track pants. I run on.. The drizzle has eased up, A cool breeze is blowing. My perspiration-drenched forehead Gets some relief. Running triggers Something primitive in me. This is what man did, For thousands of years. Before the invention Of the wheel. I can hear the thud of feet Hitting the ground Behind me. It sounds like heartbeats. Then these two young men, Whom I derided, Whizzed past me At high speed. Smooth electrifying movements Of hands and feet. ‘What?’ I exclaim silently in my head My perception was Oh so wrong. They are athletes, And they are swift. And they splash, Through the puddles. Fearless. So I had simply Misunderstood them. That’s what happens to all of us We misunderstand People. Places. Communities. Religions. Spouses. Children. Parents. Relatives. Is it any surprise, Society is so fractured. I feel like a fool Message to me: don’t jump to conclusions, Ever.
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