Karmic Return

What goes around comes around. That's a saying that's been ingrained in us since the budding of our consciousness. I've always thought that's a weird way to teach kids about honesty and generosity because it implies that acts of kindness are motivated by fear of retribution delivered by the rebalancing of the cosmos. But it works. Whatever the motivation for goodwill, as long as goodwill exists, the world is a better place.

I was out shopping for Christmas presents today. I don't care what anyone says, shopping can be exhausting, especially if you're scouring every inch of the city streets on an empty stomach and only two hours of sleep, searching for that perfect gift that holds still the precarious balance between functionality and sentimentality. But of course, it is still a fun experience nonetheless, despite the blow to the hip pocket.

So weary-eyed with tired legs, my friends and I relaxed our feet at a sushi bar to tuck into our dinner for the day. After the splurge, we put everything down, let all the weariness melt away the moment contact was made with our seats and partook in the act of exchanging the daily happenings and gossip of not only the day but the events of the week that has passed. This act of bonding and relaxation is certainly welcoming and blissful enough to make you forget all your world-weary blues.

After re-fuelling, we picked up our bags and were ready to leave. "But what is this?" I thought to myself when I was at the counter paying the bill when a strange fellow tapped me on the shoulder and asked me, "Is this yours?" He handed me my very expensive Prada sunglasses that I had absent-mindedly left at the sushi bar amidst the hubbub of conversation and mirth. I will leave justification for making such an exorbitant purchase on a novelty item for another blog entry. Suffice to say, I would have felt a lampoon shoot through my heart if my little piece of European designer-wear was forever lost in that sea of wasabi and raw fish.

My immediate thought was, "That was incredibly kind of him," a sentiment shared by my friends as well. He could've walked off with my prized sunglasses. But instead he showed some goodwill and empathy for a fellow human being and returned them to me.

Despite the cynicism with which I eye the world, this single act of honesty has somewhat restored a little of my faith that goodness does exist out there, even if it is a rare commodity. Perhaps what I'm feeling is hope. But that's not to say I'm blinded by this kind gesture; I will still lock the front door before I retire at the end of a long but glorious day.