Anger and Park

I got angry. Is that a mistake? If that is, is it mine? I don’t usually get angry but when I do, it’s not an outburst. Not like I break something, or beat someone, I just can’t do it, it makes me feel even worse. Neither do I hurt myself, physically, that’s just dumb, I just keep it inside me. 

That’s where the Park comes in. We have a road next to or house, and crossing it, I reach this park, often angry, but whenever I cross it again, I reach home, always happy.

So here I go, again, crossing the road, fourth time this week, and it is only Wednesday yet. Here, I can see all kind of people, it varies according to the time I visit. But they just add up to the stress, so I prefer being alone, and talking to myself. People find it slightly unusual, so I do it alone, moving and in my own mind.

My own mind is a good place to keep all of it in, safe, perhaps secure too and most of all private. As the road ends, there is a broken gate, I remember it was broken by a big, drunk and angry guy, I was a child back then, and I rooted for the gate. Now I feel bad for him, he wasn’t a bad person, it was just that his mind couldn’t take it anymore. I remember him playing with us, when he was just out of some rehab program. He tried and failed. His mind was brimming with all the heavy things a mind can or cannot hold, but then he got a job. He felt good. It was the night, of his fourth day at job, when his ex-wife, the same girl he always used to tell us tales about, gave him a large tip from thick wallet of her new husband, and he spent all of it getting drunk. He got high, and the following day, his mind refused to go low. He was taken to a mental facility, and no one repaired the gate.

As a kid, I saw the gate suffer from his utter brutality, and thus rooted for the gate. Now as I’ve lived 8 more years in the same world that he suffered for 38 straight years, I root for him.

Now I’ve entered the park, green grass all around, with flowers (beautifully) sprinkling other colors in the portrait. If any state of my mind could relate to this state of the garden, it’d have to be the calmest one. When I woke up in the morning, that’d be 7 hours ago, it was just like that, then things escalated quickly.

But what can I do now? Just walk here and there, and rather than thinking about it, I can just relax. But that’s not easy.

I walk through many kinds of flowers, of whose names I am completely unaware of, but if they keep doing what they’re supposed to do, does name matter?

Walking a few steps more, I can see some kids playing. Look at them plucking those little flowers, to play their silly games, stupid fellows. Adults are no fun either, just sitting at one place, inviting or just waiting to invite, others into their problems.

What do I have to do with them? I just have to take one round of the park. But how am I so sure even it is going to help? Yes, I come to this park every now and then and whenever that happens, my good mood is restored. But if I think clearly, it didn’t quite have that good effect the last time, that’d be yesterday I guess, I visited the park.

What may be the reason? Maybe the park is losing its effect, maybe I am overusing it. Well whatever the reason may be, this park isn’t the same it was years ago, and why would it be? Everything changes.

And now the shoes are untied, again. Why do I even bother wearing these? Now I just can’t sit in middle of road to tie these, and I can’t even keep walking with them. 

Taking a seat is the best option I guess, there is a bench at a small distance, but I’ve to walk up to there like a fool, with head hung low, and shoes untied.

Finding comfort in these benches is almost impossible, no matter how I sit, this is just not compatible with my back. Now I’ve to tie the shoe-laces, that’s not a tough task, but I know God, he’d try to make, even this small thing of my simple life, as embarrassing as his powers can allow.

Now trying to get my foot on this bench, I am proven right again, there is another guy, who I have to share this bench with. He’s carrying two books with him. Not that they are books related to academics, but they are some novels. Why he’s carrying two? I don’t know, I’ve more important things to do, so I am focusing on tying my shoelaces.

“You really think so much before tying your laces?” he asks without deviating his eyes from one of his books.

And I was not expecting any dialogue at this given situation, so I don’t know what to say.

“Huh?” I still don’t know what to say, “Nah… I was thinking… something else.” 

And, no reply from him. Well after I stumbled, there was nothing meaningful he could’ve said, nothing more than silence. I need to learn to stop at the right moment too, at least there would be less awkward moments to be ashamed of.

As I tie my shoelaces, I can see those kids, plucking every kind of flower for themselves, just plucking them and playing with them. Should I stop them? Why can’t they just let those little miracles of nature enjoy their own lives.

Should I stop them? Well, how? Should I ask them to go? Well if they didn’t go away it’d be awkward. And I just don’t want to seem like a dumb person in middle of some random people.

“I don’t like it,” I said to the guy with two novels, “How they… pick those flowers… I mean why can’t they just play with their toys.”

“Flowers will grow again,” he replies with his eyes pointing towards them, “they won’t.”

What am I even supposed to reply to this? 

“It’s just that,” I say to him, “I am upset.”

“I thought so,” he says, “Why?”

“These days, I feel everything annoys me.” I say.

“Well, that happens,” he says, “You just have to look on the bright side.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” 

He passes a book towards me.

“I don’t read.”

“Have you ever tried to.”

“No”

“Well then at least you should try.”

“I will.”

I will.