Gratitude for the horse minding its business; and the minibus driver minding my business...

Horse..
Body in pain and mind not moving. Sitting starting the computer, documents open from which I could have easily taken the information and weave together into an analysis for a woman who had told me this would be interesting and I would like doing it.

It is the last thing I want to do. What I want to do, I dare tell no one.

I know I have to let the woman know that now is not the past, that  I have lost the ability to focus and do interesting work, but I try to think that this is a chance to help her someway.

I hear a sound outside, a gentle sound. I get up and look and realise there is a horse eating, gentle neigh. White horse which I had not seen before.

A few days before , two mornings in a row, there was rubbish scattered outside the bin. I had cursed the 'junkie' the first time, cleaned up and left the bin. And I thought I could leave some money to buy food or something but I am not that kind or good a human being.

"He had to chase the horse, was about 1 o'clock in the morning.. horse pulling out the bag and shaking it all over.. ".. the guard opposite reported what his colleague on the night shift had told him.

I thought about the horse, whether the horse would get cut on the sharp edges in the bin... wondering if I should leave food out for the horse who came in the night to raid rubbish bins. What is the food?

So I stare at the horse outside.. thinking this is a nice picture to take to put on social media with some nice message and get some likes and shares and so.  And I pick up the camera, open the door, come downstairs. .moving quietly - previous attempts to take pictures of horses didn't work because the horses ran away.

So I stood by the fence. A slight snort and move. There is the white horse minding its business.

I get the picture. Come back upstairs. Sit down and manage to pull together some words for the woman. Not the words that I would have pulled together as in the past.

I am grateful to the white horse for inspiring me to get up, open the door, go downstairs and walk quietly to take the picture.



Minibus driver..
"Like yuh trow way yuh pot dem.. " the minibus driver asked.

Rainy day. I don't have an umbrella. I have not been sleeping properly. I am out on an errand even though I don't want to be.  Fatigue has set in, the weeks have been rough and there will be no easing.

Mind on the loved ones. Social media shows their images, living lives well lived. One politely had let me know that my misery is too much to handle, the other one had been more brutal in telling me the same thing.  And both telling me what a wonderful person I am to them, but that they cannot be the same to me. In normal times, cynical me would laugh and enjoy that madness .

In the new normal times, the dysfunctional loving is one of a series of unrelenting failures.  Laughter does not come so easy now.

The minibus driver is short, old man, wearing a cap. Lyrical creolese, words seem to roll of his tongue. He had told me that even though he is Hindu, he fasts for good Friday and Ramadan.

"Yeah man, me fin' cook shap and me trow weh all dem pat.. and you know when ayah man get ole ayah nah eat dis an dat.. so me ah kerry dis food fuh wan ole man who nah like dis and nah like dat.."

Man look at me in the mirror , I am two rows behind him.

"Ah man, you gah fuh get lil rat paisan an' mix am wid a food , den  yuh gan get de praperty..."

Conductor bent his head to smile.

I laughed..

More words flowed. Bus driver talking words with a slight smile.

I reach Church Road. He stops.

"Yah ah come off hey, aye man , stay in de bus and leh we guh town and gaff"

I keep laughing.. grateful to the man for the laughs.

The gratitude does not make the pain , it does not lessen the fatigue.

But it is a different feeling from pain and fatigue.