Fear

"Have you seen Real fear in someone's eyes?" he asked me. "Real terror, fear of death, nor your ordinary, help-me-god fear."
I was travelling on a flight back home, with the latest Grisham in my hands. I had first seen him at the security check. He looked quite out of place, with his old fashioned tweed coat, and a brown leather suitcase. With his hennaed beard, and the thick glass spectacles on his nose, he strangely appeared quite self assured, a person who had seen the world. I had figured him out as a talkative type, and when he came and sat down next to me, I buried my nose in the book, trying to appear as asocial as possible.

"A look like that can change your life for ever." I silently wondered why I always get such talkative people as my co-passengers. Why do people of his age think that have figured out the world, and why do they want to bore other people with their theories? But I remained silent, in deference to his age.

"Let me tell you a story. A story of an experience, which changed me for ever." I realised that this was going to be a long one, so I ruefully closed the book. I was in half a mind to hit him on his bald scalp, with the thick volume.

"Some time has passed since this happened. It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon. The sun was high up in the sky, and the air was warm. Too warm infact. It was the kind of heat, in which even flies do not fly around, eating rotting flesh. I was on a village road, happily riding my 1953 Royal Enfield. The warm air felt like warm sand running on my skin. Not that it mattered. I had no care in the world, no deadline to meet, and petrol was not a problem.
There was not a soul on the road. Who would venture out in this mindless heat? Most people were sensibly enjoying their siesta.

This is when I saw a dark figure in the distance. I thought it could be a mirage. As I went further, the figure split into two, and I could make out two women trying to cross the road. Both of them crossed, and then one figure went back to middle of the road and stooped. I was approaching that spot, so I honked to warn her. The one at the side of the road looked at me, but the one in the centre, wasn't even aware of my existence. I honked once again.

She pulled herself up to her full height and began to look for the source of the honking, first in the wrong direction. Finally she saw me. I motioned her to cross quickly. I was hardly 15 m from her. But she saw me approaching on this huge motor cycle, and she froze. Like a deer in the headlights. She moved neither backwards, nor forward. She stood motionless, in the centre of that narrow road.
I realised that it was too late to change course, and I slammed the brakes hard. I could see that I was heeded directly towards her. I stood on the breaks to apply even more pressure. By now, I could look into her eyes. That is what we were doing. I was looking in her eyes, while she was looking in mine. I saw a look of sheer terror in her eyes. I didn't know what was going on in her mind. Was her life flashing before her? Or was she remembering her loved ones? I don't know. Her face had contorted into a disgusting scowl. It was a strange cross between biting one’s lips, and an open, gaping mouth.

I suddenly thought of skidding the bike to avoid her, but since I was within a few feet of her, it wouldn't have helped. Thankfully I felt the bike slowing down. I heaved a sign of relief, as I stopped within 6 inches of her dainty toes. The strange look on her face evaporated. Before I could even say anything, she jumped and joined the other woman.

I was too affected to follow her or talk to her. For a moment, through our eyes, we had spoken to each other. I don't know in which language. But for a few moments, my soul knew what hers was feeling. I had felt the very same fear that she was feeling. It was one of those threads of humanity that goes through each one of us. It is at times like this, that they come to our rescue. That is our Insaniyat, the things that make us human."

I took a deep breath, and opened my mouth. "Son, I am 73 years old, you must be in your twenties. Don't think you have seen the world, till you really have seen the world. And never ever keep me away from my Grisham. One more thing: don’t go bald for style. You will miss your hair, when you are of my age."