It’s 7:30 p.m and I have my sneakers on. The sun plays hide and seek with the shadows and I, like every other evening, am ready with my music. Ready for my walk.

It’s better in the dark. Sharper. Edgier. I start. It’s slow and then fast. The world blurs past me. I have a story to tell. And so does the old lady I see sitting on that ugly green bench round the corner. Day after day, thinking about something she would probably never tell. Something probably no one will ever ask. Something that will be forgotten with time, like million other stories. The other jogger who never stops pushes me to compete with him. He doesn’t know. I run, leaving him behind. He’s steady and in no time, runs past me. He still doesn’t know. Is he spinning his own story in his head or is he just focused on completing his rounds? What does he do? Where does he come from? I live in a society where I only know myself. I don’t know what that little girl with Down’s does to keep herself engaged. I don’t know what motivates that man with the bad leg to come out everyday and ignore the stares that come his way. He always completes his rounds. I speed past an aged couple. They walk hand in hand and are deeply engaged in their own story. I change the song on my ipod.

I see them every day and they see me too. The girl dressed in an over sized t-shirt with earphones stuffed into her ears. The girl who runs no matter what the weather is. The girl with a story. Something she will probably never tell. Something, they will probably never ask.

It’s 8:30 and it’s time to go home. The song changes. The scene shifts. The sun has set and darkness engulfs the night. You don’t see stars in the city. You don’t feel the breeze amongst concrete. There’s your life and then there’s the world.

Egg curry for dinner tonight.