Guilt

Folsom is full of steep slopes. It’s a joy biking down them but eventually you have to come back up. Kind of like ups and downs of life, perhaps? Too cheesy a comparison. After a hard day’s work, I stepped out into the hot, refreshing sun, only to find my rear wheel flattened. I have accumulated two bikes over two summers of interning. And, both have their rear tires flattened. A cheesy coincidence.

Early next morning, I begin to walk towards my work (place). For trivial reasons, I feel a lil queasy for not having a car. I swirl these thoughts slowly as I walk down, take a right and keep going. A little ahead on my walk, my queasiness starts rising. It’s the judging cross. A traffic junction, where people wait to hand out judgements with quick darting glances. I request for the walk signal and stand with my head hanging. Each passing second, I feel the mercury rise. I scan the distant horizon trying to dodge the visuals jabs and the inner howls. Its tough being centre of attraction.

As I move away and walk up the graceful path, there is a kid’s park. The air is full of shouts and laughter. Not a single whisper.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” says a bright voice seated on a tiny tricycle
“Hi!” Says I
“Where are you going?” continues
“I am going to work”, not sure if they know what work means
“Where is he going?” asks his friend joining in the small talk
“Home”

One by one, a handful converge towards me. They greet and converse like old friends. I keep walking, talking.

“ok….i will see you later then”, they say and wheel off to play a little more. Their intrigued stares comforted me a million times than those searching glances pained. Its hard when you are judged, but many-a-times its your own head doing the judging. But, at times, you really feel the difference when you are being judged and when you aren’t. The tiny encounter washed and I am ready for my walk back home. It takes about half hour.