Photo Credits: www.illusions.org
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In University - during
my undergraduate studies - I got myself involved in politics. I ran for a
coveted position.
It was bloody. VERY
bloody.
(Ok…less drama)
Nobody died. It was
not bloody per se. But it was dirty…very dirty.
(That kind of dirt
that’s as dirty as blood)
Let’s just say it was
‘bloody’.
(Where was I?)
I won…but I almost did
not win.
I more or less won on
a technicality. I did not care; all I knew was I won.
Curiosity got the
better of me. I had thought the elections would be a walk over.
Why did I have to
campaign so hard? Why was I not the go-to winner?? It was
a no brainer to be the chosen candidate…or so I thought.
The first response I
got: “They hate your guts”.
I did not know what
that meant; I was too young and naïve to understand that my rebellious non-conformist
side was already being exhibited.
I never knew (for
certain) that I had a rebellious non-conformist side. I had my suspicions, but
it did not have a definition.
Besides, it was just
one person’s assessment. So I dug some more.
The majority of the
answers I got was more or less: “You do not greet people. You do not wave back
when they wave at you. Your face is always poker-face straight”.
And I smiled.
***
I have a next door
neighbour. We basically get along well…considering that we see about twice in a
week, or two.
When we do see, we are
generally cordial. And then go back to our hustling private lives.
(That’s how good
neighbours co-exist… I guess)
But we did not used to
be so cordial.
She had had an
outburst one day, and complained that I rarely wave back when she waved, on the
occasions I come out in the morning to take out my car from behind hers.
She thought I was
‘snobbish’.
And I smiled.
***
There is this clothes store my friend and I patronise once in a while.
(Once in a while for
more than four years is no longer so ‘once in a while’)
The store Manager
since we started visiting has been this dour-faced lady, whom would barely
respond to your questions.
When she did respond
with her one-liners (that is, when not responding with blank stares), she would
stare so long that one would be spooked out of wanting to ask any further
questions.
We stopped getting
irritated, and got used to it. We would rather ask the store attendants.
She became our
personal joke.
‘The deaf one’, we
called her.
Until we heard she was
hard of hearing.
I could not smile.
***
I know it’s a cliché:
“Don’t judge…you never know”.
It is a true cliché.
The struggle with
short-sightedness had been from childhood, and before I gave in to prolonged
use of glasses/contacts, I would just stare blankly into the open.
Seeing, but not really
seeing.
Rather than squint and
get a head-ache, I learnt to blot out the blurry motions.
I saw what I could
see. Period.
If you were not close
enough to not be blurry, wave all you wanted, but I would not see
you. Neither physically nor mentally.
This was the case in
school. This was the case with cordial neighbour.
While I could not
explain this to the old schoolmates I had inadvertently ‘snubbed’, I gleefully
explained to neighbour.
“It’s too early for me
to don glasses or contacts; I could pull the car without either. But I really
cannot see you wave”.
This was the same with
the store Manager. We thought she was just annoying.
Perhaps…she was
annoying too. But she was hard of hearing first.
This is why we must
all learn to practice the “You Never Know” principle.
Be slow to deliver
verdicts on the actions of others.
I know; humans are so
horrible creatures and exhibit their horribleness from time to time.
This makes us all put
one another in boxes, with disdained labels. Particularly when the “fight or
flight” switch in our individual heads is flipped on.
We are quick to
explain away (negatively; most times) the reason behind people’s actions.
Snub. Wicked. Stingy.
‘Loose’. Flirt. Proud. Not cool. Annoying. Poor. Uppity.
The labels are
endless.
At the very least, we
could put our minds in a state of indifference to a person’s actions, and find
out the why behind their actions. That is, if we will be fair to them. Before
we lock them up in their given box in the corner, and stamp our perpetual label
upon them.
You really never know.
And may never know.
Paz,
Meg.
P.s. This is not to
say there are no genuinely unnice persons. There are.