Hunting The Snark

For the snark was a boojum, you see.

• Home

Missives Part 1. 2/21/2005

There were no posts all of last week, due to the fact that I was on holiday. I’m awaiting a certain set of test results, which I hope will be good news for all concerned. No, it wasn’t an AIDS test. But the results of the test will have a strong bearing on what happens in my life next.

I sometimes sit down, and wonder about the frailty of human life. Or all life for that matter. I was smoking a roll up on the balcony, and reminiscing about the friends I have lost over the years. The list is, considering how old I am, very long. Some of it was due to vehicle related mishaps, but some were due to life threatening illness, where the fight was fought, and lost.

I remember Kala, a young lady who lived 2 doors away from my parent’s place. She was single, a lecturer in a local university. She had been going out with this guy for some years, and he was a staunch vegetarian. So, in the hope of being what he wanted her to be, she gave up meat, never smoked, never drank. She had a good career, but was wanting to settle down and raise a family.

One day, I was washing the bike in the porch. She walked over, with a depressed look on her face, and asked me if my mother was in. I replied in the affirmative, and let her in. I saw them talking at the dinner table, with a box of tissues in ample evidence. I thought nothing of it, and resumed washing and polishing “Dark Justice”, as my ride at the time was called.

She came out of the house, and stood next to me, with my mother by her side. She had obviously been crying. I looked up, with a Marlboro hanging out the side of my mouth, and smiled. Just being good neighbours, you understand. And what she said next made the cigarette butt fall from my lips in shock.

She told me she’d been diagnosed with cancer, and was given a matter of months to live. Her boyfriend, upon hearing the news, had dropped her like a hot brick. She was shattered, because everything she had wanted would no longer happen. I was struck with a sudden silence. This was a woman who, while not being overtly religious, lived a decent, clean life. She never did anything considered high risk, as opposed to someone like me, who is basically an adrenaline junkie, and continously imbibing substances not necessarily known for their beneficial effect on health.

I stood there for a while, with my mother looking on. My mother was crying as well, for she treated Kala like a daughter. I sat down on the side of the porch, and the only question I could think to ask her was, “What are you going to do now?” And she just sat next to me, and told me she didn’t have a clue.

I looked at Dark Justice, and said to Kala, “Wake up early tomorrow. We’re going for a ride.” She looked at me aghast, saying that she’d never ridden on a bike before in her life. My mother looked at her and said “Kala, just do it. My son very rarely asks anyone to get on the back of a bike with him. You might as well live life to the fullest.” Kala nodded her head, and said she’d see me at 8:00 a.m.

• Posted in : Personal
• Author : thesnark

message
name email url

search

Recent Posts

• Still life.
• Memory Lane.
• An officer and a gentleman.
• All animals are equal
• Disability.
• Ouch!
• Happy Father’s Day
• The price of pleasure.
• Pop-up dog…
• Replicant.

• Feeds

• Full
• Comments