It was a rare emotion for him. Feeling helpless and angry at the same time. His upbringing, which had now transformed into his inherent nature, made him helpless. While the rebel in him was angry. He wanted to shout back. But how could he. He wasn’t raised that way. Plus, he was empathetic, you know; he understood why the other person was behaving such.
He just stood there. Anaesthetic. Reticent. But for his eyes. As always, they were expressive; though, this time, inadequately so. That’s why they watered his face. To wash the semblance of vacuousness. They weren’t successful. Not even mildly.He left the scene. He tried to calm himself down. His principal thought was whether his silence was perceived as acquiescence. May be. And maybe rightly so. But he didn’t care now. Because he couldn’t do anything about it. At least in that moment. He was still helpless and angry.