i had polio when i was 3. my left leg is a bit weaker and thinner than the right one. so i limp a little. not quite noticeable indoors, but outdoors when i walk people do stare at my feet. i don't blame them, curiosity is the mother of invention they say. in this case however, all their curiosity would let them invent is a thin, unusual foot, but at least their thirst for knowledge is quenched! i don't exactly mind. i mean i did mind, when i was little. but over the years i kind of got used to people's stares. and comments. yes, let's not forget about the comments. how could i? the comments from the people who stand there on the sideways, in the middle of the busy roads, in everywhere, with no work in hand. i always wondered, what do these people do? you can find them anywhere in this city. they just stand there, a group of two or three, you don't know if they are having a conversation, all you know and hear is the comments they'll throw at you just as you pass them. of course, to experience that you have to be one of the female species.
my friends, my fellow colleagues, often complain about them. i guess it's a bit different for me. it's not only my sex that gets me comments from all around me, also my unfortunate left foot. i call it unfortunate because it has given me no trouble in any phase of my life, but it has to go through this ordeal every now and then. poor thing!
anyways, most of the times i don't notice these passing remarks (that's probably because i rarely notice anything going around me). and the times i do, i ignore them. there was a time when i got furious whenever somebody dared to utter a mocking word at me; sometimes i even confronted them. but what i discovered is, the male species will always stick together. you face one of them, the others will come to his rescue. or make the whole thing a laughing issue. i don't remember exactly when i stopped reacting to these incidents. i got used to it at some point. these days, i don't even notice. people will whistle, or laugh, or sing, or stare, or throw an offensive comment...i have so got used to it that it goes past me unnoticed, and sometimes when i do notice, it gets ignored.
the reason behind my stupid ramblings is, this afternoon, as i was walking towards movenpick (gulshan 1), a guy sang a song to me. yah, i know it sounds absolutely romantic. but the guy had a weird grin in his face (his friend who was beside him, wore exactly the same grin...which is a point to ponder on!) and the song he was singing was about 'how gray hairs don't make one old'! well, i had a realization just then! i'm of the female gender, i have a defective leg, and now, some of my hairs have turned gray! i have to admit, i'm a bit proud of my gray hairs, i'm sick and tired of hearing how i look like a 14 year old, these gray hairs give me some kind of an aged identity, which i like. it didn't strike me until then that these innocent silver hairs too, are something to stare at, something to comment on...something to sing a song about! wow, what a good news for the sideway commentators! go guys go! wish u every success on your job (that you do so passionately, i have to say), and next time i manage to notice your hard work, i'll congratulate you.
ok, this was supposed to be a write up full of scathing satire. but now that i've read the whole thing myself, it's a pathetic and whining piece of shit. sorry the sideway commentators, i don't hold any particular grudge against you. actually, you guys are quite funny. i just wanted to write a satire. but it ended up this way. and now i'm again whining. let's stop here.
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