Tangent

 

The sun outside has taken shelter behind a thick sheet of dark grey clouds. It's raining like it hasn't rained all year. What am I doing? I am here, staring out of the window, reminiscing about my today's physics class, thinking about a lot of things-the jokes, inertia, test, and most of all-mud.

Yes, I am spending my Saturday night thinking and writing about mud. Mud, something we often dislike. Who likes mud after all except little kids who find it soft and like to jump on it with their friends to stain each other's clothes.

Kids are brighter than us. Mud isn't all bad.

I look as the wheels of the cars cause water to splash at the passer-bys and the other people on two-wheelers. I can see them annoyed by the mud and water. But is it the mud's fault?

When the car drives over the mud, the mud wants to get attached to the wheel. And the wheel also wants the mud to get stuck with it. So, it tries, and there is a centripetal force of attraction acting on the mud from the wheel that allows it to stay connected with the wheel for a while.

But that's it. It's just for a while.

The wheel tries but has no other option than to let go.

So, it does.

The mud flies in a straight line, tangent, towards whatever there is in front of it. And we curse at it. But it's not its fault. It just wanted to stay with the wheel. And the wheel just wanted to stay with it. But they couldn't stay together, the pull wasn't strong enough to let them. And the mud flies towards us.

Just like some people in our lives with baggage. We find them like that and blame them, but is it their fault? Perhaps their wheel was a person, a thing, a hobby, anything.

It's not the mud's fault.

Nor is it the wheel's fault.

But then, whose fault is it?