The Encounter (Draft 1):
An unlikely moment of compassion…
It was getting dark. The sun was setting. The sky was displaying dramatic spurts of merrier and brighter reds and pinks. Quite in contrast to the sky, dark grey clouds of pain, confusion and sorrow were rising from my heart. Tears welled up in my eyes. I was embarrassed. I realized I was on a busy street. How could I cry here? What if someone I knew saw me? I looked up. The city was bustling with activity. No one seemed to notice me. Just then I heard a “Hi “. My voice was choked so I forced a smile and waved back. That person had walked past without waiting for my response. “Was it my tears or was he just lost in his own world?” “I better find a quieter place”. I moved away from the crowds.
There was a quiet spot with a bench next to a large tree. The big branches shielded me from the busy road. A big electrical outlet covered the window of the adjacent building. Amidst this sanctity I plopped myself. My sorrow was overwhelming. It had welled up like a dam after a storm. My floodgates opened. I gave myself permission to cry. I burst into tears. Sobbing my heart out. And then I heard it. The slow trickle first. I paused. Uncontrollable tears were trickling down but my voice was hushed. Was someone around? There was silence. And then I heard it again. This time there was no mistaking. It was gushing of water, like a sudden opening of the tap. What was that? I stopped crying. The sound stopped for a few seconds and then it happened again. like a controlled body of water, tricking out in spurts. Water that couldn’t be contained and then suddenly the gushing sound became louder, like it just had to rush out. As the suspicion hit me, the smell rafted. How dare someone? I stood up in disgust. There he was. On the other side of the electrical outlet, dirty, beaten up, in clothes so torn that the multiple layers couldn’t hide his skin. He seemed just as shaken. His pants were hastily pulled up Our eyes locked.
He quickly looked away. Shame poured out of his eyes. I felt sorry. Did I violate his privacy? Poor man. Relieving himself on the street. Was he homeless? Did he have to do this every day? In that split second tornado of thoughts, his eyes shifted back to me and my breath stopped. That gaze…gentle as my dad’s. Soft eyes of a kind man sensing the pain of another. My heart relaxed. In silence. We both stood there, for a moment oblivious to our surroundings…FEELING UNDERSTOOD.
