One More Round

It was late and early, objectively both, calls to prayer had not yet started to pierce the darkened sky. The air smelled of ittar and roses. The ground tilted unevenly on a slope. If he put his head down, focusing on his phone for more than thirty seconds, he would stray towards the other side of the road, the part tilted downwards. The gravel road was hard and tough. The dusty path running around the park was soft and littered with all kinds of objects.

Shadows stood guard, tall and leafy, around and inside the park. Dim lights wavered weakly over the park. The dog’s tail swept the air behind her calmly as she walked on the leash, not pulling too much, not staying too close. The boy walking her had his eyes on his phone and in front of him and on his sides, and in the park, and behind him. Everywhere, as was the necessity in this country. 

Shuffling from behind him. The guard, a few paces behind, and getting left farther behind with each step. He was only walking. The guard had served in the army, yet he was unfit to keep up with the walking pace of a twenty something year old. Soon, the guard would take his regular shortcut, and cut through the park to catch up to the boy. Such a travesty, he shook his head.

The calls to prayer were loud, and startling. Harsh, a cacophony of noises, each cleric trying to outdo the other. Also such a tragedy, he shook his head. The language was so beautiful, the words waxed poetic, the sounds were lyrical, yet these people, these people were harsh, cawing and braying when they sounded the words, no understanding for meaning, tied to their base desires, molesting little kids. What kind of society entrusted its young to people like these, who would brainwash and turn extreme, or would molest the charges they had been entrusted with.

Such wasted potential. He shook his head in sorrow. A shadow broke away from the trees, and stumbled out onto the road. The boy put his hand in his pocket, and fingered the key. Whether the man was stumbling towards him or away from him, he could not tell. Another shadow started to move, slowly walking. The movement was visible, one leg after the other, because of the darkness, the shadows and depth were imperceptible. The first one walked out into the dim glare of a streetlight, and he saw the man was walking towards him. Shalwaar kameez, white, laundered. The man stopped, saw the dog, crossed the road. The other one was walking away from him. He walked onwards, fingers loosening around the key. He walked on. The guard slowly came by, from inside the park, and exited to walk behind him. The dog moved around, sniffing the ground curiously. The harsh cacaws of morning prayers shattered the stillness of the morning sky. One more round, he thought to himself, the dog tried to drag him as they passed the route to home. One more round, he thought to himself.