Personal blog of a traveloholic writer / editor / glutton
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Yesterday, a group of young teens threw french fries at me when I was having lunch. I had shopped for some cheap boots - how stupid to buy them during the fag end of winter season - shopping always makes me hungry. I was sitting alone in a corner in a generic KFC, reading and munching on a burger, when I felt these soft thingies hitting my neck and hip.
Two years back, I'd have either confronted them or complained to the floor manager. But in this north London neighbourhood or Holloway Road, I was not able to get angry at these kids (who, by the way, all were at least 5 inches taller than me, and i'm 5'5"). Instead, I could only muster forgiving thoughts. They were clearly looking for trouble, and I wasn't going to give that to them. God knows how much trouble they have already faced in their lives.
I have finally understood that not everyone can be as privileged as I am, and that I should not feel guilty about it. Instead of feeling angry or trying to fix the problem, I have learnt to just let it be and move on.