I’d been at the technician’s to fix my phone. We talked about the issue concerning it, bargained the price and he started the long process of repairing the fault in the phone. As the place was well-ventilated and the balcony overlooked the flooded streets, and the mass of people walking on the road, I picked up my pen and started to write.
This was not the first time I’d had this thought. To be honest, it was a little more than the millionth time. I should think a lot of people have had this thought as well because…. It’s impossible not to have this thought at least once.
I’d say to myself, “So…everyone here has a life of their own.” Like, it’s not just me. Most times we get so involved, so saturated in our own lives, we forget that others have lives as well. They have their own stories and their memories, their dreams and their nightmares and the events that have made them who they are as I saw them and each day, they walk on the road. In a mind of their own. In a world of their own. Just like me.
There’s this thing I do where I try to guess the life of each person I see on the road. I’m quite certain that my assessment is most inaccurate and that I can’t possibly know or fathom what each person I see goes through but it helps to somewhat understand them and of course, a good means to alleviate my boredom. So, as I sat on a chair on the balcony overlooking these people, I began to guess their lives.
The Spring roll Vendor. She’s a fourteen-year-old girl, walking with her transparent bucket of half-full spring rolls. She’s aware that people are quite skeptical of the hygiene involved but she has no choice but to sell them. At least attempt to. She’s parched and the sun is scorching and she fights not to pick one of the spring rolls to eat. But something tells me the aunt that had sent her counted each one to the last. And if the money in her hand doesn’t equate with the spring rolls, there could be hell to pay.
Sometimes I get carried away trying to analyze a person and my emotions bleed. I’m supposed to be neutral so I shift to the next person.
I see a woman just alighting from a jam-packed bus. There’s a baby strapped to her back and three more by her side, all under the age of eight. She doesn’t look so happy and her mind is plagued with how the next meal is going to be prepared. Her mind drifts to a husband who may or may not at the moment be drinking away the family’s meagre income. But as she guides her children from the road, there’s love in her eyes. Love for her children and I know that somehow, she’ll find a way for them to survive.
I smile as I move to the next one. A young man in his early thirties. He walks with a false sense of confidence but there’s an uneasiness that you can see if you look closely enough. He has an easy smile but his eyes are hooded with fear. His people are disappointed that he’s not been able to do anything for himself but even though each day is characterized by more mistakes and wrong decisions, he believes things won’t always be like this for him.
My eyes rivet to a woman who should be called voluptuous at least. The hisses from the older women vendors say they disapprove of how skimpy her clothes are but there’s a spring in her step. I feel she’s used to negative comments from everyone but she believes everyone has their life to live and no one should bother about hers. She may be going for a booty call or just returning but she looks content and that’s what matters.
And not to bore my readers any further, I’ll talk about the last person I saw before I decided to stop people-lyzing. A college girl. She has earphones in and there’s a crease in her brow. College stress seems to be more alive than whatever she listens to. Then she pauses and checks her phone. A beatific smile erupts on her face. A loving boyfriend has just sent a heartwarming text or she’s gotten a credit alert. But whatever it is, the crease on her brow relaxes and she starts shaking her head in time to the music.
As I paid for my phone repairs and made my way to begin the journey home, I wondered what story people would have for the 5’5 bespectacled girl in a Korean-style outfit and a cynical face to match.
But, what I got from this as I do from my other people-lyzing ventures is how a million people have a million stories and why we need to treat everyone with politeness. We don’t have to smile at each person. Trust me, over here, you can collect insults from that, but at least when you encounter someone, don’t be the reason they have a bad day.
It's not that hard or is it?
Till next time.❤️
Copyright ©️ Jhymi || 2023
