Serendipity of Pain

Once in a while, random strokes of incidents raise questions that you can not answer. Sometimes you wonder, if you could, would you even want an answer to those questions?


I was walking along the pavement down the busy road. The traffic beside fighting to move in the same direction as I was. A young kid, may be in his early teens was trying to dodge the warriors of the road. He was holding the hands of a little girl, presumably his sister of 9 or 10 years of age.

A biker in a hurry to meet his loved one, decided to jump to the footpath. Before I could shout, respond or do anything — he was en-route a collision course with the little girl in blue dress. The teenager saw this.

His reflexes faster than mine. He pulled her out of the way of the biker, as he himself tried to make room. The biker pulled his breaks hard. The retreating leg of the teenager hit the bike. He instantly fell, but was surprisingly not in shock.

I rushed to his aid, and he was already standing by the time I reached. Before the crowd or the traffic policewoman at distant could do anything, the biker fled away. His knee was visibly fractured and bent. His eyes quickly moistened with the deep pain. I moved to grab him by the shoulder.

He looked at me and said something. No, he did not make a sound. It was his eyes. He stared into my eyes, stopping me in my tracks. He took the little girls’ hand again in his hand, and walked away into the distance.

I stood there. Cold. Helpless. Awestruck by the pain the guy was in. So that his sister would not be worried. I had a fracture when I was that age. I could recall the dreadful pain. For a few moments, I could almost feel it.

The pain was serendipity to him.

The pain was serendipity to him. He rose to endure it.

He chose to endure pain in his naivety. He chose to endure pain. He chose. Something that I could never do.