Punches

It’s one of those weekends that I don’t have a plan. Don’t ask me why I would not have a plan; we all know this being January plans are luxuries that most of us can’t afford. Even the thought of calling up mates and finding if they have plans seems like the worse idea ever. If you were me,what would you do on a weekend with no plans? I packed my bag and set out on a journey that I did not know where the destination would be. When I got to town I decided to head up south. Booked a ticket and boarded the bus ready for the adventure of my lifetime. As I took my seat, seated beside me was a lady and her son who seem to have dozed off.

 

Somewhere along the journey the boy got up, after orienting himself with where he was he did not hesitate introducing himself.



“I am Ibrahim but my friends call me Ibra,” said the boy “What’s your name?”

“I am Maasai, it is my pleasure meeting you.”

“It is my pleasure meeting you too.” Ibra said.

 

At this point I was confused because the boy sounded so mature for his age and his English was perfect. I got curious and continued with the conversation so as to learn more about him.


 

 “How old are you?” I inquired.

 “I am seven years old,” replied Ibra.

 

But before we could continue the mother interrupted and said, “You are six years and eight months.” the boy tried to argue with mother that he was actually seven but after sometime the boy conceded that he was actually six.


 

“What grade are you in?” I continued inquiring.

 In response to my question, Ibra replied “I will be going to class two next week, but I will know once I get my grade.

 If I did not pass my exams I will have to repeat class one .”

 

So we continue chatting for some time about everything from favorite movies, cartoon, heroes, dance style and all that. To say this kid didn’t amaze me, it will be a lie; the kid is bright, sharp and entertaining at the same time.

 

When we were about to arrive at our destination, I wasn’t ready for this and for a moment I was just there as our conversation went to this.



 

“Now since we are good friends we should keep in touch,” stated Ibra.

I responded “Sure that will be awesome, I am sure we will meet some other time.”

“Why don’t I take your number and I will give you a call.” Inquired Ibra

“Sure but you don’t have a phone?” I replied.

“I will use my mum phone.” Ibra stated in response.

“Sure here is my number 07----------.”

“Thank you.” Ibra said.

 

At that point I was thinking the boy would forget my number once he alight from the bus, to my surprise the boy picked his mum phone and without a miss dialed my number. At this point I was mesmerized. All we could do me and the mother was to exchange glances like lovers on a first date without uttering a word.

 

Now the mother has my number and I have her number, the question is should I call Libra? But if I call him and the mother picks up the phone what will I tell her? But as I figure out the best pick up line for the mother let shelve this story for another day.

 

It is a ten round boxing match. The arena is filled with people shouting their favorite names and cheering us up. But as it is with life one thing is for sure, most of them will end up home heart broken. Then there were three old guys sited at the front of the stage with scoreboard ready to score the punches. The irony of all this is that none of them has ever stepped in this ring and thrown punch like their life depended on it. How unfair is it to be judged by someone who has never been in your shoes? But such is life. Life cannot stop because someone who doesn't know how much the punches are wrecking your muscle happens to be the judge.

 

Before the fight started I made myself a promise; that no matter what happen I have to fight all the 10 rounds. Nothing was going to stop me; not the couches, strategists, fans, referee or anyone for that matter. This was my fight and I was going to fight it on my own terms. But as the fight got mid way every punch I took the faster my hope was dwindling but the promise I had made to myself kept me going. I was knocked out many times but I kept pulling myself up. I was not going to fail myself because finishing this battle was more important than winning. At the end of it all we are all winners and what matters most is that we survived the fight from beginning to the end without giving up

 

Life is a fight everyone has to fight. The beauty of it is that at the end we all face the same fate irrespective of who we are. Just like in the arena we all make choices of how we choose to fight this fight. Some of us like those who sit at the stand cheering others, some of us like the three dudes waiting to judge us, some of us like the ref who keeps the rules and others gets in the ring and battle it out because they want to make something for themselves out of this life.The good thing about all this positions, none is selected for us; we make conscious choices where we want to fight this fight called life from.

 

As you decide your position just remember at the end of the day this life serves us with the same drink. You can make something out of it or  you can go through it without making something out of it. No one gets a trophy and that’s the beauty of it.

Regards 

Maasai

1 Responses

  • DB Cooper
  • Tuesday, January 24th, 2017

Great opinion. Life gives us all an equal chance and an equal day.

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