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That cold snowy day

  • Hamida Maqsudi
  • May 11, 2020
  • 1 min read

I could barely survive on that cold snowy day, when I was heading to my destination in a taxi. On the way, a couple joined us, carpooling with us. The lady was clad in a short old 'Borqa', with summer slippers. The man, though, was properly wrapped by a thick warm outfit. As soon as they joined us, the peaceful space vanished by the man’s shouting. It was as if I and the driver were deaf and blind, with no sensory capabilities to understand. We were part of their privacy.

"Who was that guy you looked at him? What was the signal you give by your big toe to him?" He asked angrily.

"It’s cold ’Aqa jan’ and my feet are senseless in the slipper now. I swear I did nothing purposefully, I just looked at the sidewalk for a while but not specifically at anyone,” The lady answered innocently.

The man was increasing his red hot temperament, by using more abusive language against her. The women was trying to convince him, to allow her to explain when they are alone as she was totally ashamed of the strangers over there.

The condition was truly unbearable to both I and the driver now. I sarcastically called the driver to drop me as I could not keep quite any more and start whispering while getting off from the taxi: "Under the human mask, not all are really humans."


The fact of who was at fault was unknown to me. Keeping my prejudices, I was left angry on my own account. But this wasn't the anger of the man, it was at the man.

 
 
 

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