Saturday, 7 May 2011


“Wake up!”
The sound of my mother’s voice pierced through my ears like a blow-horn. The fact that she hated my habit of waking up late on weekend holidays irritated me. Those were the only days on which I wouldn’t have to wake up at seven a.m. in the morning!

I tottered along the kitchen, glanced at the large clock, and sighed. Breakfast time was long gone and it was one-thirty p.m. After the usual scolding for waking up late and not being a responsible ‘young-man’, my mother told me to buy her groceries for dinner. Even though I felt lazy and didn’t want to go at all, since I just woke up, I presumed that it would be much better to just leave without any grumpiness, or at least try to, rather than get scolded by her again.
It was scorching hot outside, which made my long walk even worse. I detested the fact that she wouldn’t let me drive to the grocery store; it would be much quicker, and better for me. But her overprotective personality will probably never change.
It seemed like busy afternoon when I got to the main road. I could see the shop right past it. This was the worst part, the drivers were so inconsiderate, if you’d walk by without paying attention, and they wouldn’t care if they would hit you. Having my mind flooded with thoughts of my overprotective mother, the scorching heat and the irritating honking noises, I didn’t see it coming.
All of it happened in a fraction of a second, but it seemed like forever. I was in the middle of the road, and I could hear a relatively louder horn… as if it was right next to me. I finally saw what was coming at me from the corner of my eye; a large truck. My heart jumped up to my throat and at that very moment, I felt a surge of adrenaline, rush through my body, my veins, like a heavy electric current, and I reacted. It was all because if plain instinct; I sprang as hard and fast as my body could allow, and missed the bus by an inch. Then what I heard was a loud screeching noise, and a crash.
I turned around to see that the bus had hit a man on his motor-bike.  He seemed to be in formal clothes; a pant, a shit and a tie. He would have most probably been heading to work, where he would earn for his family. Now, perhaps they would have to wait much longer for him to come home…

Surprisingly, I was perfectly alright, but the man wasn’t. As I drew nearer to him, I could see blood all over his face, his clothes and his hands. His motor-bike was completely wrecked and everyone around the area had surrounded him. The driver of the truck was apparently missing. It was a horrifying scene; the man lay on the floor like he had no bones.  The concerned people called for help, most called the ambulance, some called the police.

Sooner or later, help arrived; time didn’t matter now. I was alive and he was dead. I realized that my mother was right after all, going in the car might have been worse. I would probably be unable to avoid the truck. Thanking God, I walked towards the grocery store, with a sigh of both relief and depression, proceeding with life, as always.