The strip of capsules shone. I touched it wondering what colour awaited me; I knew the shape…I had tried to feel it through the foil. It was cylindrical. As my finger prised it open, I felt a jab. There was blood, just a drop of it. Who would have imagined that one can get hurt while looking for a cure? I stood my finger below the tap and let the water hit it. To lessen any pain just cause it more pain, then you forget the reason.
Usually I like to look at the location. It is like a sight-seeing trip for me. But the cut was not deep. It was shallow…I am discovering words like shallow, hollow; they seem anachronistic in my scheme of things, but my scheme is not the world’s view. So the cut was shallow, and it helps if you pronounce it wrong and emphasise on the last syllable. Then it can get really low.
Now I don’t know how much you are aware about surface wounds. They are deceptive; you can barely see what they look like. I often ignore them and let them heal on their own. Today, I applied an ointment and put a Band-Aid over it. Not because of the pain but because I do not wish to be reminded that anything that appeared to look so harmless could hurt.
I looked at the strip of the medicine again. A small bit of blood was at the edge of the silver foil. Inanimate objects have the grace to acknowledge when they have hurt you…who knows, it must have also felt that jab?