The wanderer

THE WANDERER



It was a cold and rainy night. Not a soul on the deserted streets, which conveyed to me a feeling of unease, of I shouldn’t be here, of I shouldn’t be wandering mile after mile and I couldn't even remember for how long I had been doing that.

I couldn't decide what pain was greater: the physical one due to my being exposed to horrendous weather conditions plus the fatigue in my very person plus the lack of food for God knows how long for or the psychological one with this profound melancholy I felt deep inside.

My feet hurt, my knees hurt; actually my whole body hurt. There were a few cars driving past, I was sure they had somewhere to go; unlike me, I was sure they knew where they were going, they had a destination, whereas I was walking towards the unknown, would I ever get anywhere that would make me feel better? I could also see lights through many of the house windows as I trudged around the streets of this northern gloomy town. I was certain they had families, a hot meal, a decent bed to sleep on; I was very certain they had friends, someone to talk to, someone to rely on. At least if I had someone who would listen to me, I could tell them about my misfortune. Would that make me feel any better? It probably would. It would probably relieve some of the psychological pain within me. But what would I tell them? Would I tell them the true version of my deepest feelings, of my pain, my melancholy? Or maybe I could tell them about the freedom I felt every time I wandered these streets. That’s right, I could say that. I could say that no one had to tell me what to do or where to go, that I had no deadlines or boundaries or timetables.

But how had I ended up like that? Was it my choice? Did I really like who I was? Or would I have liked to be someone else? But would I have replaced my freedom for materialism and greed? I think I was going crazy, I was thinking too much but my thoughts were not methodical. I was being negative about myself one minute and positive the next. But what was positive about my situation? Was it not the mere struggle to justify myself? A mental struggle to convince myself I was not a loser? Then I said to myself it would be a better idea if I thought about something else.

So I kept on walking, believing that eventually something had to happen, believing that I would eventually arrive somewhere. I knew something would happen.

As I trudged on, growing weaker and feeling heavier with every step, I could hear music in the distance. Where does this music come from? I wondered. So I realised that to the far left stood this beautiful house. As I drew nearer, I could see through the drizzle a three-story detached house with huge bay windows and a garden that had been looked after to perfection. I could hear the music and I could even hear people conversing, chatting away, giggling and basically having a wonderful time. It was good to hear people laugh. After all, laughter is good, it makes you feel good. So for an instant, I felt happy about their joyful gathering. But what about me? I was not having a good time and I was not laughing. So I was beginning to feel aversion and disapproval in spite of their blamelessness, but how would you, my dear reader, have felt if you had been in my shoes? If you reflect about analogous circumstances, have you never had contradictory thoughts running through your mind? Well, this certainly applied to me since those sounds of merriment coming from that classy and costly house were inundating my brain with a mixture of emotions difficult to cope with. Were those people better than me? Was I not as human as them? Maybe they inherited everything they have or maybe not. Either way, I just needed to walk away as I couldn’t stand that any longer, each second that elapsed was torture. I even wished that something bad would happen to them even though they hadn’t done anything wrong to me.

So I speeded up my pace and as I was walking past the house, the door opened and I could hear some people coming out. I could hear their cocky and conceited voices, so half in panic and half in embarrassment I tried to speed up my pace even more. Then I realised that I couldn’t; my energy reserves were coming to an end and all these emotions and confusion were not helping; my legs were growing weak, my knees were bending unwillingly and my eyes couldn’t see clearly. I can recall a loud female voice that uttered: “are you alright? “ I didn’t know what to answer but there was no point in trying to think as my body was by no means responding to my commands. My sight was becoming blurred and my legs weaker and weaker, then all I can remember is complete blackness.

When I opened my eyes, I realised I was in a hospital room. I was informed that I had been brought by two gentlemen and a lady who despite being complete strangers to me, still appeared to show genuine concern for me. They had left some money and a telephone number with a message that read:” Hope you get better soon. If you need anything, do not hesitate to phone us”.

I was to remain in hospital a few days longer. I had fallen ill due to malnutrition and extreme fatigue but I was recovering satisfactorily. But what I couldn’t get out of my mind was that immense sense of remorse, a memory of all those horrible thoughts against some humans who had saved my life and gratefulness beyond anything I had experienced in my entire life. I could feel the tears running on my cheeks and embarrassed was I not to admit it.