I sat down on the bench in solitude.
It felt good to be alone.. Looking at throngs of people pass by me- observing their every move.. reflecting on my life.

I felt ' paiseh' with my crutches next to me.. I wondered when it was all going to be ok.. when i could be a normal 16 year old once again.

As i readjusted the position of the old pink and black bag on my lap... someone saying an excess of 'fuck it' , got my attention..Looking up, i noticed an old man, in his late 50's, hitting his head repeatedly with his bare hands. But what really made me stare at him was the fact that a boy, probably his son-- small and obese, around the age of 7 was sitting next to him, watching and listening to every word he said.
A million thoughts were processing in my head,like a computer trying to configure a code. I felt sorry for him..yes..(i realised that i have a sensitive side.). Something terrible must have happened..

While talking on the phone, head down on my lap to my dad to confirm what time he would be picking me up, i felt as though there was a loss of light. It was as if the sun had been blocked by a humungous cloud.
As i looked up, fiddling with my phone.. i noticed the 50 year old man standing in front of me, staring down into my eyes.
'May i sit here?'

Big mistake.

He was probably too depressed to make sense of what he was talking about. He started telling me about his life story.. About his failed marriage.. about how his wife ditched him and upgraded while he downgraded.. no job.. no money.. no life..
I felt bad.. All i could do was to provide a friendly listening ear. I had no choice too.. My immobility would be a huge factor for me to move somewhere else to get out from this man's life.

man: you want to go makan somewhere? my treat..
me: no thanks.. i alr had lunch with a friend
man: nevermind lah.. we can have a chitchat ( he said it with a mix of tamil+english)
me: sorry.. dads picking me up..

he probably had asked me that about 5 times, afterwhich i felt like sticking my boot up his face.
Were you here just to have a friendly - stranger-oh-im-so-depressed chat? or to con me? maybe it was a stranger-oh-im-so-depressed chat TO con me.. haha

anyway.. he continued talking about his failed life..

man: how old are you
me: 19
man: whats your phone number?> we can be friends
me( looking down at my handphone.. thinking... shit.. one excuse gone) : its private. i dont give my number out like hotcakes to strangers
man: why?? you think im a rascal? you got bad impression on these kinds of people right??
me: .....( looking away.. not bothering)
man: think about it.. we can build a friendship.. my name is Jerk( name changed for privacy) *laughs out loud*

At that very instance i wanted to get out of there. He then started shouting at his sisters son.. ( no.. not his son.. i interpreted wrongly).. to 'salam' me..
That poor kid almost cried..

man: good boy right? give me your phone number.. think about it.. we can start a good friendship..
me: no.. dont pester me
man: you want me to create a scene here is it? you think im a rascal? a good for nothing? your wrong
me: ok i have to go..
man: give me! we have a chit chat first if you want lah!!

I quickly walked off to a taxi and went in.. He stood up.. and gave me a cold stare...
even though he didnt physically harm me.. the thing itself was just scary

crap..
so much for being alone..
cant even have solid time to myself
something always has to come up..
hope he dosent come find me or something
i wouldnt want to hit an old fragile indian man with my 'weapon'