Oh how they can stare
Oh how they can stare.
Unblinkingly, unwaveringly, rapt in their own world of staring. The starers may be young/old, man/woman. They all stare the same way at anything anywhere anytime. At the street dog licking his balls, at my bellybutton piercing, at the bird pecking at throwaway crumbs, at my crotch...
Take today for instance. Durian season has started. We were picking through the fruits at a market stall. One man positioned himself behind us to stare at us making our selection. The vendor started to open up the durians. Two men joined the first in the staring past-time. By the time we were helping to pack the durian meat into styrofoam boxes, a small crowd had gathered. All staring unblinkingly, unwaveringly, wordlessly.
Finally, the boxes are put into plastic carriers. We paid up. We picked up our purchase and turned to face the crowd. In silence, they moved to make a small exit path for us. As we walked away, we could feel the eyes still staring at our retreating back.
Unblinkingly, unwaveringly, wordlessly.
Oh how they can stare.
