Rise and fall of the tiny speck

I tried blinking again. I could see the sky and the trees – I was conscious. My head still hurt in spite of the helmet and I felt bit dizzy. I could hardly move. But being conscious was a relief.

I was riding my scooter merrily a minute ago. Oil spill on the road, a sharp turn and suddenly-turned-disobedient brakes sent me and my scooty dragging and sweeping across the road for a few meters. For those few seconds, I tried as much as I could. Nothing worked. I barely had a sense of what had happened, leave alone trying to mitigate the fall. I and my scooter did a deadly tango, scratching and spinning our way across the road waiting desperately for the music to end. My head hit the road when the incomprehensible motion ended, my left foot squashed below my scooty and I lay there sprawled on the road. I blinked again, unsure of how hurt I was, staring at the bright blue sky.

The minute I took relief in being conscious, I saw a car coming to a grinding halt just a couple of feet from me. A few second’s delay and they would have found me smashed like a ripe watermelon underneath that car. I missed more than a couple heartbeats then and there.

I looked up at the sky again and said silent ‘thank-you’s. I wasn’t hurt. I was fine. The sky seemed all too beautiful suddenly. Clear, azure, limitless. I could lay there just drinking its beauty.

A truck-driver had parked his truck and was helping me up. He lifted my scooty and parked it to the side. I gathered myself and limped my way to the side. No profuse bleeding, no broken bones. I saw a small stream flowing next to the road, flowing so beautifully. It was pretty. Life was pretty. I was fine. I would take time to appreciate the stream, the sky and all pretty things more often, I pledged. I was having my own little moment of revelation, a probable life altering experience.

“Are you hurt?” the truck-driver asked me calmly as he handed me the keys. “No”, I said looking for signs of any major injury. He started walking away stoically. “Thank you”, I had to yell for he had already walked half way to his truck.

It was only after he left so calmly that the real revelation dawned. He hadn’t helped me; he did what he did out of some kind of habit. As a man who spends most of his time on the road, he had probably seen many wounded beings before. And the first look must have given away details of how hurt I was. He walked over, did what he should have done and got back to his work. My moment of revelation was reduced to ‘everyday thing’ by him. He turned the engine on and left.

I had heard ‘one tiny speck in the big vast universe’ before. But ‘one more found sprawled on the road’ was what it took to grasp the concept. There I was, admiring the sky and waters where the stoic truck-driver had his eyes on the road, in every sense of the phrase.

I went home to find a crack in my helmet, torn jeans, bruises all over my leg and elbow and a twisted ankle that wouldn’t be of any good for a week. But the truck-driver’s stoic face acted as a bitter medicine to all of it. Wounds of ‘one more found sprawled on the road’ after all.

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About sayali611

Spent a lifetime building a wall around myself, only to realize that what remained inside was as hideous as anything I would protect myself from. This blog is my attempt to break free, one brick at a time, and to make sense of what was blocked out.

Posted on August 9, 2011, in Death, Life, Life-lesson, People, Words and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 28 Comments.

  1. I’m so glad to hear you are alright. What a scary experience you had, but how wonderfully written for us to share in the moment. Sometimes, after an experience like this, we gain a new appreciation of the world around us. Sounds like this happened to you. Again, I’m glad you are alright.
    *Hug*
    Adrianne

    • I agree with Adrianne. So Glad you are alright. How beautifuly you shared your moment with us. You are NOT a speck … just in case you wondered. I am so very glad you live to write the tale. 🙂

      • Thanks Adrianne and Shonnie. Yes, I’m perfectly fine now. It was a huge roller coaster ride for sure. Just glad its over. Appreciate your concerns *hugs* back to you 🙂

  2. I’m very glad to hear you are alright too! Having been hit myself (mildly) a coupld of weeks ago, I can imagine quite clearly how you felt.

    More hugs from me too!

  3. I’m glad you lived another day to tell about your experience. And you told it well–I felt like I was with you. OUCH! I hope you’re mending.

  4. A breath taking account. Glad to know you weren’t hurt much and hope you’re recovering well 🙂

  5. Nicely done! Awesome title!

  6. Like your other readers I’m very glad to hear you’re okay – though the fear and pain must have really been scary! Sorry to hear it.

    Still, it seems to me that the person who’s most broken is that truck driver. You quickly saw the beauty and gratitude of your circumstance and he . . . well, you wrote another beautifully thought-provoking piece here, Sayali.

    Put some ice on that ankle,
    Cindy

    • That is an interesting perspective. Never thought of it that way. Now I feel sorry for the truck driver.
      Im recovering well, thanks.
      Good to see you back again. Hope you had a good holiday. Looking forward for more activity on your blog 🙂

  7. Hi Sayali

    Saw your comment on my blog…since you write about people who inspire you from real life…i would request you to please go through the column Real Connect on my site and give your feedback…

    http://thoughtsconnect.com/category/real-connect-2/

  8. You’ve described this accident so beautifully it almost makes the reader envy your revelation moment. I have these kind of ‘I should take time to appreciate what I have’ moment only after reading a sad book, but it’s nothing compared to a dangerous experience like that. You’re lucky to be all right, and you’re lucky to have learnt such a wise life lesson from it all.
    (Also, as inappropriate as it is after an entry like that, I’d love to have a scooter).

    • Even if you are envious, I would pray that nothing of this sort happen to anyone. The sore ankle and bruises were also hell to live with. And you are right, I was very lucky. And I guess fools like me need such jolt to learn such lessons. Glad you liked it.
      And yes, not inappropriate at all – scooters are awesome! I love mine. I could write a whole blog post about why they are so good. You should totally get one.

  9. Unfortunately that’s what life has turned into. The “money making world” says if you stop to care about those routines things you encounter everyday, you tend to be less “productive”.

    Hope you are alright.

  10. Just stumbled on you in the forums so this wsa the first post I’ve read. I’m really glad you’re Ok. Not a pleasant experience to say the least

  11. ouch! I cringed with pain when I read about your head smash in this post. Glad you’re ok. 🙂

  12. I had an accident once, guess what, with a truck. I escaped the death. So I am happy now. Hope you are too. Get well soon :-).

  13. Good to know that you are safe! The Scooty (especially the pep+) does tend to skid with sudden braking.. Are you still limping now or is everything fine?

  14. Beautifully written. The vivid imagery kept me on my toes and the way your turned this around as a reflection of your thoughts about the truck driver that evolved into your thoughts about the world … existence. Well done 🙂

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