With the lockdown going on, it gets difficult to get out to shop for groceries. The best time to do so is between 7 and 8 in the morning. That’s when the fresh vegetables come in the market, fresh milk packets are sold, and when I can take the bike out without getting caught by the police (because neither do I have a license nor a helmet – which I intend on getting once the lockdown ends).
I went for the first set of shopping – vegetables. I got home and mum said she wanted to have bread and a good sausage omelet. But we’d been out of bread for a few days; so I stepped out again to figure where I could get bread from. I stopped at the regular supermarket, but they blatantly gave me stale bread. I demanded the fresh bread that just came – I mean I saw the bread truck unloading a whole load of fresh bread, but they said the fresh bread was for another store and gave me the option of either taking the stale bread or nothing. I was in a dilemma. Mum wanted bread and I had to get it for her – but I was not that desperate to buy old bread. I walked away and decided to go further to another supermarket. Luckily I got bread there and I was on my way back home when I saw a crowd had gathered in the middle of the road ahead.
I knew instantly there was a mishap (obviously). As I rode nearer to the crowd, I saw two bikes lying on the road. The bikes were upturned and the wheels were still whirring and whizzing, but the riders were not to be seen. I inched closer and saw that one of the bike riders was lying on the road, motionless. He wore a red t-shirt and black pants. I panicked. Everyone was panicking. He was dead – or so it seemed. Until a few minutes later he opened his eyes and looked straight at me. I flinched and was instantly filled with a feeling of guilt. A range of emotions sped through me – fear, relief, anxiousness, and helplessness.
By God’s grace, he gradually gained consciousness and people were trying to help him up. I wanted to tell them to stop moving him around in quick, jerky movements. But I was transfixed to the spot. As they tried to lift him up, I saw a pool of blood had accumulated under his head. He was bleeding profusely. Then I saw the second rider. He was hovering over the bruised rider and was probably praying to God that the former had survived the crash. The second rider has scraped his face, but he was fine.
I started my bike and rode on towards home. What could I do there anyway? I would just be contributing to the roadblock. Neither was I being productive, nor helpful. And that’s when the realization struck. It’s so easy for us to always blame onlookers when an accident takes place. As news readers, video watchers, and the like, we always say “that guy/girl could have helped out”. But that’s not true. We will never know what emotions the onlooker is going through; what their speedbumps are and what their limitations are.
I got home and handed over the bread to mum and started thinking. Shit happens all the time to everyone. We all think that we are going through hell, but the fact is that everyone goes through the same share of shit every day. This is exactly why we have to be thankful for all the small mercies in life.
#happy for all the good things I have been given by God!