Flip through the latest issue of Gulf Weekly.
The weather is changing and so is my mood. The noise of the air conditioners is fading away and the growing silence is making the echoes of the soul louder. A debate is on-going, the most recent one being whether good memories last longer, or the sad ones leave a more picturesque image.
A long time back on my way to and from school I used to see a leper on the roadside. He was bandaged in dirty torn pieces of cloth. I saw him every day for years. He was in misery. He used to sit with his head bowed down with his hands clad together, risen towards the sky begging for forgiveness.
I never saw his face, not in the scorching summer heat, nor on chilly winter mornings.
At times the image of that leper pops up in my mind.
During tough times I often think of that lonely, miserable man in agony. What was his story? What was his end?
On another day on the road I saw an accident. A car hit a motorbike. The bleeding legs of the woman and the screams of her little baby girl are images forever engraved in my mind.
On another day there was a car parked next to the one I was travelling in and the yelling sounds of the young couple in it rang loud and clear. They were fighting, ignorant of the fact that their two toddlers were in the back seats, frightened and hugging each other for comfort with signs of distress and pain all over their faces.
When I see a couple fighting or when I raise my own voice in argument, the faces of those children remind me of the ripple being caused.
I must have witnessed many happy faces and heard laughter too on those journeys. But the sad ones saved themselves and have made an everlasting impact.
The real life characters involved remained strangers to me. We are all mere mortals but the lessons learned have left imprints on me to try to be the best human I possibly can, today.
