i was just taking a stroll with my father yesterday. The sun was already up at 5:40. It was by far, arguably the hottest day. We were sweating walking up the road. Everything was slowly moving, like it is on usual hot July mornings.
The street empty; with a few passersby, busy in their own life, unassumably staring ahead. My father was telling me a story, it was about his youth, his boy scouting days i guess. i was hot and dazed.
That is when cutting through his words i spoke out. "It is so hot today." He was visibly sweating too. He has this thing for resistance that he hates to admit anything bothering him. He reprimanded me, told me how 4 seasons were a blessing and how some countries never saw the sun. And how helpless we will be if it just went down and came back rarely.
This is the difference between me and him. This is what life puts in you, wants to be put in you. To take its blessings as they come, to recognize them in disguise, to be subtly in harmony with them just as the seasons, as the sun, as that small walk with my father. It takes an age to be this way and we waste our youths away, regretting our delusions.
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