2 weeks ago TPP Comments Off on Professional hazard
I dragged myself, groggy eyed on a lazy Sunday morning to the local farmers market at Junglighat. The streets were bustling with vendors screaming out their price and buyers haggling. Few people exchanged pleasantries when they walked past each other. While I bought my veggies for a slightly discounted price, I noticed this woman, who looked a mentally disturbed and was sitting all by herself in a corner savoring a juicy orange. On my job in the newspaper organization I was told to keep my eyes and ears and open and have the nose for news. I was therefore curious to know who she was and what was her story. She looked so euphoric relishing on her fruit. I walked up to her curiously wanting to know more about her. “Madam?” I called out. She didn’t respond, I assumed that she didn’t hear me so I went closer and called out again, “Madam?” this time I seemed to have caught her attention and not in a nice way. She was alarmed by my proximity and went into a self-defense mode. She got up, threw her orange hurling abuses and frantically looked for the best weapon. She found a wooden plank with nails on it and grabbed it. Not wanting to get puncture marks on my face, I jumped across the drain and vanished into the crowd, surviving to tell the story. I do see her sometimes on the streets; I still hope to find out what her story is.