The Gate Incident
The gates stay closed until the guard there opens it for you. He always has a rifle hanged on his left shoulder. There's also a mini gate on one side which is about three times smaller. Behind the gate there's a bunker made of cement bags and it is in front of a small two room office. The guards sleep there.
Right in front of the bunker there's a bus stop on the other side of the road. Next to it is a small office where one can see a guard sitting down writing names of important people who crossed the gate that day, time of entry of the buses that come and go through this gate and many such important details in his register. A cycle stand can also be seen there and some cycles are standing there bearing the heat of the sun on their seats.
I do not want to walk through or even see this gate anymore.
My right ear was hurting. The previous night I struggled with the cotton ear bud for about half an hour. I wanted to go to the dispensary. I walked along the road for about ten minutes and could see the gate. Crossed two wide and joined together roads. I wish the man controlling the traffic there hadn't embarrassed me that one time when I almost rode my cycle into a car. Nothing had happened. I was safely on the other side. The paddle was stuck for some reason so I was late by a second or two. But the cars just came straight towards my cycle the very next second.
I reached the gate. The guard checked my card for identification. I was about to cross the cycle stands. When another guard stopped me and started asking me questions. He did not appreciate the fact that I was wearing shorts and slippers. I was taken aback and had no response when he asked me to go home and come back with pants and shoes on.
I felt something in my eyes. I swallowed the tears. I started walking. I ignored the gate guard and was on the other side of the gate. I did not cross the road and just walked along it. I could not stop walking even if I wanted to. I felt a strong need to go back and curse or say things that he would remember for years and or shout at that guard. I kept walking.
A lot of things were going through my head. I wanted to call my father and tell him what just happened here. If only I had my phone with me. I was clinching the card in my hand. I think I moved my hands over my hair a few times. When I shut my eyes tightly, water came out and I had to rub it off my thumb. Multiple times. In my head I must have gone through all the words that one uses when they're angry. Almost ten minutes passed and I crossed the road to turn back as I was going in the wrong direction. If I go back from here I'd have to pass the gate again. So I took the longer route home.
That was three or four years back, now that I look back and think about it, the guard was just doing his duty. He thought I was one of the kids who go there to play football, which is not allowed. I actually was one those kids but not that day.
The gates stay closed until the guard there opens it for you. He always has a rifle hanged on his left shoulder. There's also a mini gate on one side which is about three times smaller. Behind the gate there's a bunker made of cement bags and it is in front of a small two room office. The guards sleep there.
Right in front of the bunker there's a bus stop on the other side of the road. Next to it is a small office where one can see a guard sitting down writing names of important people who crossed the gate that day, time of entry of the buses that come and go through this gate and many such important details in his register. A cycle stand can also be seen there and some cycles are standing there bearing the heat of the sun on their seats.
I do not want to walk through or even see this gate anymore.
My right ear was hurting. The previous night I struggled with the cotton ear bud for about half an hour. I wanted to go to the dispensary. I walked along the road for about ten minutes and could see the gate. Crossed two wide and joined together roads. I wish the man controlling the traffic there hadn't embarrassed me that one time when I almost rode my cycle into a car. Nothing had happened. I was safely on the other side. The paddle was stuck for some reason so I was late by a second or two. But the cars just came straight towards my cycle the very next second.
I reached the gate. The guard checked my card for identification. I was about to cross the cycle stands. When another guard stopped me and started asking me questions. He did not appreciate the fact that I was wearing shorts and slippers. I was taken aback and had no response when he asked me to go home and come back with pants and shoes on.
I felt something in my eyes. I swallowed the tears. I started walking. I ignored the gate guard and was on the other side of the gate. I did not cross the road and just walked along it. I could not stop walking even if I wanted to. I felt a strong need to go back and curse or say things that he would remember for years and or shout at that guard. I kept walking.
A lot of things were going through my head. I wanted to call my father and tell him what just happened here. If only I had my phone with me. I was clinching the card in my hand. I think I moved my hands over my hair a few times. When I shut my eyes tightly, water came out and I had to rub it off my thumb. Multiple times. In my head I must have gone through all the words that one uses when they're angry. Almost ten minutes passed and I crossed the road to turn back as I was going in the wrong direction. If I go back from here I'd have to pass the gate again. So I took the longer route home.
That was three or four years back, now that I look back and think about it, the guard was just doing his duty. He thought I was one of the kids who go there to play football, which is not allowed. I actually was one those kids but not that day.