Said thug, by the way, was very much complacent, running his bike on minor gear, assured that the woman wouldn’t catch up. He turned a corner and disappeared from view. A few minutes later, I hear the sonic boom of a revved up motorcycle. Probably Mr. Thug doubling back and returning from the cesspool from whence he came.
That was the second time I was torn from my morning routine by wildly screaming victims of petty theft. The first instance was a few months ago, February, I think. What irks me about these things is not that it happens on our street, but that it happens aside from the fact that our community pools a monthly collection for the benefit of baranggay patrol.
Oftentimes, I see the
Or maybe the thugs already know their schedules, and can easily maneuver their hits around the watchers’ guard hours. I don’t know.
But do I really care, stoic that I am? Maybe. Having been victimized myself by petty thieves, I do feel for that lady, desperately catching up, trying to regain her belongings — pieces of her life — that was snatched from her. At least, they were only things, those belongings snatched from her. Those can be replaced, albeit stressful and cumbersome.
And Mr Thug, dude, Karma will get you. As some of my friends point out: "Digital na ang Karma", it wouldn’t wait for reincarnation for your comeuppance. And as the Chinese curse go, "May you live in Interesting Times".
published in friendster blog April 19th, 2008