Parking Woes
There begins another day and without asking
for much, one may ask only for the day to end well, of course, wishing, that
the passage of the day would be reasonably acceptable. However, there are
certain essential parcels of the day that are sure to make their appearance
everyday, though assuring a variation of a certain kind and obliging us by
doing so.
The Daily Parcel
I talk of the daily parcel of parking
woes that many of my morning compatriots encounter full score, most of
the time patiently, perseveringly, hopefully, at times, indignantly. It is not
uncommon for the day’s graph of emotions, to reach its peak in the early hours
of the day, when half an hour passes, three quarters lapse, and the morning
parking seeker finds himself or herself going round and around the parking lot,
hoping against hope, for ‘a stroke of
luck.’
One just has to see the relieved smile on
the face of the parking slot seeker as he meets with success and enjoys the
daily momentary victory having gotten for himself the envied parking slot.
PSS
It is partly pathetic and partly reassuring
that you have so many companions facing the same fate.
There could not be better understanding
between fellow humans than what exists between the morning’s PSS
(parking slot seekers, a useful and
quite a handy abbreviation!). It is heart wrenching to see many still
struggling, waiting for the doors of their destiny to open, when one has satisfactorily
parked one’s car, striving to come out, having won the first battle of the day.
A Strange Camaraderie
Nevertheless, it seldom cheers the spirits as
one sees within one’s mind’s eye, the same fate waiting for oneself on the
threshold of tomorrow- while part of the heart stays behind with the fellow
stragglers, still fighting and struggling. There seems to exist a certain camaraderie
with one’s early morning fellow PSS!
Every morning as I return, after the daily
chore of dropping the kids off at school, I heave a sigh in anticipation of the
daily testing turmoil waiting at the parking lot.
As
one enters the circle of merry-go-round, (very often I am reminded of the game
of ‘musical chairs,’ however, in this case, getting the chair to sit on is in
itself a reward!); one raises an eyebrow to see the same familiar faces, who
either live in the vicinity, or work in the area, queing up for the competition
to find a parking slot! In this particular case, sighting a new, unfamiliar
face is the least savoury, because that would only mean another competitor in
the ‘battle of parking survival!’
There you go, “This is just the first round, get set for the next,” I tell myself
encouragingly. “How many fellow sufferers
today?”- the rhetoric continues. “Well,
there were about six as I entered the competition… not bad… the number is
building up.” “Hey, today there are
easily twenty of us, I am not alone… but how I wished, here, ‘the lesser the
merrier.’ ”
Such is the mental repertoire that goes on
day after day.
The Chorus of Woes
Ghost like, half frustrated, half indignant,
but yet persistent, one carries on. Not to undermine the respite offered by
104.4 FM and the mind invigorating ‘impossible questions,’ without which the
morning battle would become really unpalatable.
So
far so good, another morning, another day, another battle, another victory, yet
the very same ‘you’, ‘myself’ and my ‘morning woes’.
Well, the chorus of woes continues and the
battle runs on until the next week. Until then, so long!
By : Mrs. Pushpinder Kaur
