And, That Knowing Is Not Easy

 

She is an elderly person, possibly in her eighties.

It is a very busy road and adherence to traffic rules seems to be non-existent and is possibly not a mandatory thing. Of course, it works in congested areas like these. People navigate smartly, finding the best ways to move themselves around. There is a sequence of bus stops for different directions, and for the long distance travel. There are autos and private vehicles. The traffic police can’t help much as the issue demands more infrastructural solutions than mere discipline. One good thing about this is, there is less likely a chance for any major accident.

She is weak. Despite her age and a bent back, she can walk. Of course, with the aid of a walking stick.

There's a sidewalk designated for pedestrians, but I tend to avoid it. It's often overcrowded, serving as a terminus for numerous buses and crowded by passengers boarding and alighting. And there are slow to very slow walkers. And plus the scattered litter. Even walking in the middle lane, amid buses parked in the first lane, doesn't feel unsafe or disrupt traffic flow. But yes, the proximity of blaring horns, glaring lights, and the need for extreme vigilance to gauge vehicle speeds and adjust my own pace make it challenging. 

Her technique is just to walk in a straight line as much as possible.

If you've observed dogs crossing roads amid moderate traffic, you'll notice their alertness and restlessness like behaviour. They walk and run, slowdown and quicken their pace, change direction, and eventually make it to the other side. I find myself moving similarly, albeit without fear or a sense of losing control. When you don’t have the control, the only option is to keep moving, leaving the rest to external, others. Perhaps, for those who believe in destiny, it governs, and our control is just an illusion.

She embodies life. Or is she a lifeless?

The moment I see people like her, I immediately ask “God, why?”. Yet lately, I quickly dismiss it with “that’s why, God.” It doesn’t matter what the situation is, some inner force drives us, utilising the last-est ounce of the every tiny unknowns in us for this journey called life. Why this life, her life, required? Don’t know yet, but I’m beginning to believe that lifelessness is not knowing what to do with this life.