Bernard's blog. Bus stop

It was an early spring morning. I stood by the bus stop trying to get as far away as I could as fast as I could go. Running was always my forte only because I've always felt that there was no place for me in this world. If I kept running I felt maybe one day I could find a place to call home. But today someone kindly gestured to me to stop and just consider life as a it is. Not through words but just a kind conversation.

It was colder then I thought. Especially without socks on, my toes were curled up looking for heat from an equally cold foot and sandal. I stood away from the shade and faced east to soak up as much heat as I could and that's when I heard a voice from behind me.

"The bus doesn't come for a few more minutes"

I heard a voice pipe up from behind; East Indian perhaps? I turned around and I saw a slender brown skinned man sitting in black dress pants, blue dress shirt and a shabby jacket. He gave me a genuine smile. I thanked him and turned back to the sun but for once I just yearned for a conversation. Hoping maybe it would be warmer then the weather around me.

"It's pretty cold out hey?" I turned and asked hoping to initiate a conversation.
"You Canadians really like to talk about the weather, huh?" He asked and looked at me as if to confirm a conversation in the making.
"'re right" I replied feeling a lot less of an individual.
"But yes it is quite chilly"
"Yeah, so where are you headed today so early on the bus?" It was a fair question as it was sunday
"Oh just going to work 2 hours north of here" He then moved one side of his jacket brandishing a gas station badge; with pride.

I thought one must enjoy life to enjoy working at a gas station

We exchanged mindless banter until the bus came and we got onto different seats. I then thought about the enjoyment of life. Nothing deep, but just wondering why I couldn't be happy working at a gas station to make ends meet, while living a simple life. Why is it that I'm so complicated as the world just seems to move on with out me. It just seems to work yet I don't.

At the bus terminal we boarded the same bus and sat next to each other. I began to ask him why he worked so far from home. He said that it was the only job he could find as he and his wife have only been in Canada for 3 months. I then complimented him on his amazing English. He thanked me then humbly declined it saying that back in Pakistan he used to be a lawyer he learned both languages at a young age as well.

As we conversed some more I couldn't shake the notion that a prestigious lawyer would could take such a lowly job with such stride and optimism. But he told me that time was was the most precious essence a man could ever hope to possess. When you use it all up you die. He told me that not being able to subdue an ego would be a foolish waste of time. He was getting to old to play anymore games, that he had a wife to help support and a child on the way.

Then he departed saying leaving me to think about how I've allocated my time. All indulgent. I work of course but my money goes where? And is there anything to show? No one is happy with me. I'm not happy with me. And I'm left with nothing. Maybe it's time to move on. Maybe it's time to stop running

Farewell Asif. and thanks for the thoughts.

The End

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