Regrets of the past
“I’m sorry,”
I muttered softly as I pondered outside the balcony, one hand with a can of chilled coffee and another letting it dangle on the edge of the handrail. The night was still young in the moonless January sky.
That’s what I would have said.
But words travel through distance, never back in time. And even if they do, I’m not sure if I could muster them.
You were there, all alone and I was that scrawny, bespectacled kid among the bunch of 12-year-olds.
You were picked on, for nothing more than a victim of blind prejudice.
Blind.
I guess we all were back then. The same goes for the stereotypes of the past society, dispensing ill advice and promoting status segregation.
“Study hard and don’t be the bin man”.
“You’re only enabling the beggar by giving him your money”.
Your old man was doing an honest job which contributes to society, but the city doesn’t recognize his efforts. He put the litter back to where it belongs, and that is a service of kindness.
I used to see him when I was accompanying my grandmother back then to the neighborhood market. Your man was there, doing his work. I remembered how I looked away, pretending I never see him. Perhaps it was the fear of associating with him which might lose my social standing if someone I know ever sees me.
I was that naive, but definitely not innocent.
I wish I could travel back in time and stop myself. To tell that 12-year-old me how I got my perspectives all wrong and how it will eventually come biting back, like a snake eating its own tail.
Karma might sleep, but it does exist.
When we have passed the chance to make peace, It can feel like Atlas the Titan, condemned to carry the weight of the world.
I am unsure if I should open up the scabs in my life. Who knows what he is doing now?
Being exposed to humiliation is something a 12-year-old should not experience. I wonder if these experiences can truly grow him into adulthood as a role model or coax him to turn the other.
You know, like in the movies where the protagonist has some rough upbringing before he uses it to his advantage?
For better or worse, I might have missed that chance to make amends.
I wish I could turn back the hands of the clock. But probably I shouldn’t.
After all, it is destined that I learn from this episode.
