Custom Suits, Stampede and fancy accidents

Dear you,

They say the world is made for two, and I finally understand why. All the reservations for dining, travel or even shopping for flip-flops have 'deals for two'. Last week while I was out with my friend in the city, my slippers broke and had to buy a new one right away. Sales board on a shop read ,one flip-flop costs 18$ but two would cost only 12$ each. Perhaps the best economists, financial experts, or flip flop makers can explain this bargain to me. After all, these are the same people who made us believe that all nations are in debt. And all we have to do to solve the problem, is shop!

So there I was, in the middle of popular shopping mall, limping in my torn slipper not wanting to buy two flip flops of the same kind. With unshaven face, messed up hair and rugged shorts I could very well pass for a construction worker. I think brown skins can't afford to dress down. If you happen to see a white man in similar situation, you would probably make way for him. You would  think to yourself he might have twisted his ankle in a fancy accident like hiking or skate boarding. After few shop limping, my friend looked me in the eye and declared," lets take a pair, I could use one."

Thanks to the flow of money I could afford to travel these days. it's the most spiritual thing I do apart from meditating. In one of my recent trips I met someone. My bad, I fell right under the spell when that someone tried spelling my name with foreign accent. Someone who is so perfect for me, like the custom made suit or mom's meal. Someone who gave me butterflies just with a look. A look that said more words than all poems of great men, put together. And that someone was committed. 

For a brief time lines blurred with stampede of emotions at heart, everything wrong seemed just right with a stupid question," what if I am the right guy ?" But I wasn't. And neither the situation was. It was like a roller-coaster ride , I went up and came thundering down within few days. But, If I were given the choice to trade the aching soul with the perfectly imperfect situation, I would still choose it like a fancy accident. Because now I know someone of my likeness exists in the world. For the world is meant for two, those who limp in torn slippers and those who look you in the eye and declare they could use a pair.