Take a walk...

I cycle to school. Its good fun to cycle, especially if one has company, the only irritating problem being signals, which by Murphy’s law, never favour you. And, that when it rains, you should have alternative modes of transport. I do. My dad drops me to school on such days and my mom picks me up.
Today was one such day. My dad drops me as usual, and promises to pick me up after his meeting at around 4:15. I didn’t have any major issues with that because I knew most of my classmates would hang around in school till then.
So I wait. And wait. And wait, but no dad comes. It is 5. I try to pass my time by looking at people playing throwball. They play pretty badly, so I give up on that. I decide to study, so I open my bag, only to find that I have left my text book at home. Brilliant. I go to the office to make a call and ask my dad if he was planning to come. He doesn’t pick up his phone. Neither does my mom. Another alternative- I could go to my friend’s house, two streets away, but I realise that she may not be at home (it does not strike me to call her up then). So, what do I do? I decide to walk, applying the simple logic: If I can cycle, can I not walk? So I begin to walk, all the way from school at Gandhi Nagar to home at Shastri Nagar. What happened throughout the way is what is worth mentioning. In the beginning, I walk , singing to myself my favourite songs. I can feel the stinging glares of the passerby’ s but I can’t care less. I have to keep myself occupied, and I can’t think of anything else. Until I cross the signal. I suddenly realise I could count the number of steps it would take me to walk from school to home, though I had already walked more than half the distance. I start counting, but I am walking faster than I can count. Somehow, I seem to be looking down all the time, as though counting with utmost concentration. I hear a whistle. I look up. A desperate guy was trying to make a pass at me. I say desperate, coz no guy in his right senses would have made a pass at someone who looked like I did then; - my hair was a complete mess, I dripped sweat and my face looked like I had been dipped in a pot of oil ( I can say this because this is how I looked when I saw myself in the mirror once I reached home). Totally angry with that dim-witted guy who made me lose count of my steps(remember, I was still counting my steps), I resume both my journey and counting. I reach the signal. I cross it pretty comfortably. ( I think the signal doesn’t like my cycle!) I’m very close to home now, continuing my counting, an auto stops in front of me. I look up once again, irritated at being interrupted. He is an auto driver, who is generally around the auto stand near our building. He offers to drop me home, which is just down the road. I first refuse but on insistence I agree, because me legs were really hurting now.
He drops me home, I thank him profusely. I reach home, only to find it locked.
In despair, I go to my neighbour’s house. A neighbour with whom we haven’t been on very friendly terms. They kindly allow me to make a call. I call my dad who is in school, searching for me. The rest is pretty normal. They come back home, while I spend some uncomfortable moments, searching for topics to talk about to my neighbours. Once they come back, Im terribly angry. I throw a tantrum.

Then again there are some nice things about what happened. I never thought that auto drivers could be nice, certainly not in Chennai. We kind of patched up with our neighbours, she gave me some yummy tea, and all the unpleasantness just seemed to have disappeared. I really learnt to walk a long distance, previously being spoilt by the luxury of cars and bikes. More than that, I learnt to walk patiently. It was nice to just gaze at the models of cars, the grains in the smoke from their vents, the traffic inspector’s paunch, a pup putting its head out of a car window, the misery of a street beggar, the schizophrenic at the end of the street, and many more such sights that I wouldn’t see if I were in a car. I wouldn’t have the time to either.

Now as I write, my mom still thinks I’m angry with her. She gives me a soulful look and I give her a smile. And she gives me a hug. After all, how can I be angry with her for being late once when she has made sure I always am early to school, even if it meant her getting up at 3!
My dad thinks I’m angry too. I flash him one of my toothy smiles and he melts in to a puddle. Ah..there he is! How can I forget the times that he would go early to his workplace just so that I don’t get late, and be angry with him?

And so, everthing is normal again. I look out of the sky to see the weather. Its dark, but I can still see clouds, and it is threatening to rain. That would mean I can’t go to school by cycle tomorrow also. I think I should try walking down, shouldn’t I??