Mind of the Confounded Man

  My wife and I go for long walks through a silent and serene park to talk and unwind from the day that has been. We have promised not to take our phones on these walks as she especially treasures the peace and calm of the surroundings. Overall it is therapeutic and helps us cope with the times. That day the walk started a bit hurriedly, perhaps a desperate attempt by me to escape one of those bad days at work. In my hurry, I forgot to leave my phone behind so the promise shifted to not using it.  As we strolled through the calming silence of the park, I complained about life and people. My dear wife, who loves me to bits and wouldn't let any emotional harm ever come to me, ran her hand gently through my hair and said, "You know they are wrong" . Felt better. Just then I got a group video call from my parents and sister. Now we are a regular Bengali family whose cacophony would overpower the calm of the surroundings that we were in. I wanted to generally complain about th

  The other day I stared into the mirror looking at my receding hairline and feeling I could have done with some better genes and some better hair maybe? But then I stopped and shut my eyes... One thought led to the other and took me down a rabbit hole of time, back many years, to that barber on my street who used to give me a cut for Rs.11/-. The barber's shop wasn't very big and had room for a tiny bench behind the cutting chair, where his customers patiently waited their turn. Seated on that bench, there were only 2 interesting views to be had: one of the sunlight darting in through the little entry door that spot lit the dance of dust particles in the shop; and the other being the back head of the customer who was getting the haircut. For the customer getting the haircut, however, there was unfortunately not much of an option in terms of views: at best he could stay entertained with the snipping tune of the scissors and the banter of the barber and the bench guys. During on