Scribe

Being a scribe is a gift. Being a visually impaired literature student is also a gift. Their thinking is entirely different from my interpretation of things.

My friend uses Braille to learn those huge background literature and linguistics notes. The letters are transformed to a manuscript that only those special people can understand. When I touch the braille letters, it provokes many thoughts in me. It is like when you touch a script engraved on a temple stone. The script engraved on a temple stone will last forever and its vibration gives you silence. When I touch her notes, I feel her longing for eyesight, to see herself, to see her mom, the shrine, and the notes.

I remember writing her observation of Lincoln’s death by Whitman. How beautifully she explained to me the poem, the mourning, the bird and the lilac flowers. I could imagine her visually rich interpretation. Though she is visually impaired, God has given an extra pair of eyes for her intellectual visualization.

Miss you, and take care, my friend!   

The brain of a traffic policeman

In Bangalore, the most valuable and wanted person is a traffic policeman. The moment he is not found, hundreds of people will search for him.

Not even hundreds of policemen search for a thief, but this honour goes to the traffic police. He comes to work early, stands under the Sun, and walks a thousand times within the same radius.

He is the only person who gets scolded even if he does his job well. Throughout the day, he is working for others. It is not easy for him to do his personal things while at work.

He forgets to drink his bottle of water for a full day. He is sandwiched between the traffic jam.

I wonder how his brain works while at work. His hands, neck, and brain work together to show a direction.

A momentary smile or a greeting will give him energy. A small greeting can reboot his dedication. Man, don’t always be busy! Think of people around you, who simplify your life every day.