I need to move on. I closed all the doors by saying hurtful things. He said he didn’t want to talk anymore. I pushed him so that he finally said that.
I am obsessing unnecessarily. This should end. I need to devote my energies elsewhere.
An old man bent over a stick came to the gate today. He was speaking unclearly. Finally he asked my ethnicity. He was pleased when he heard that I will be able to understand his dialect. . He was looking for the prayer house which is at the corner of the street. Bashful, he asked me for two pieces of bread to eat. I got some water and asked him to come and sit in the veranda. He said it was alright under the shade of the tree. He came in when I insisted. He mustn’t have been to the city much for he spoke with an accent. I couldn’t follow his dialect very clearly either. I recalled how if he had been to any stranger’s house around his village, people wouldn’t let him leave till he he at least a meal. I didn’t want him to lose his innocence in the harsh city. So, I gave him part of my lunch along with the bread. He gratefully asked me to take it back. The breads would suffice he said. Again I insisted. He had the meal blessed the house and left. The housekeeper’s sister who speaks his language later went to look for him ( Mom, over the phone, told me he was her guest perhaps). She found out that he was going to the city nearby for pilgrimage. I wondered….
I think I will be working for HIV patients in this city.