For several occasions (actually only 3) now, I have had some neighbours pack their cars close to my entrance such that I am constrained when I try to leave my apartment. I stay on the ground floor, house number 01. On the first occasion, I was seething with anger and visibly irritated. Why couldn’t they see that there’s somebody living in house 01? Why are they so arrogant? Who do they think are? I murmured to myself. I wanted to teach them lesson. I wanted to smash the windscreen and deface the cars. These wayward, wild imaginings persisted for a while until they eventually vanished on their own. I was on my way to the church. I made a mental note to later alert the caretaker and security guard on the parking quagmire. I later did and the menace stopped. But not for long. The second time it happened, and the same “evil” thoughts replayed in my mind. I happened to confront this particular neighbour who was the second culprit. He jokingly wished the issue away. He asked, “Did I block the way to your door? “I thought I would wake up earlier than you and be gone by the time you are wake,” he added. To which I solemnly replied that he was causing me an unnecessary hustle (what hustle really?).
While in a matatu, Juja’s favourite, Super Metro, I replayed the scenes. Why was I always so pissed off and angry whenever I would find a car parked close to my main door? Was it really about the inconvenience or there was something more sinister lurking in my nature? Rationally speaking, these guys had no option but to park the way they did. So, objectively speaking, they had no malice at all. So why would I still get angry despite these objective observations. I have later observed that my anger could be caused by a deeper vice, jealousy or even envy. I do not have any car though I may get one soon. While I am somehow opposed to owning a car myself (not really financial constraints, although you, yes you, may still want to think so), I couldn’t understand the reasons for this jealousy. I have universalized this experience and noted that every time somebody or something makes me angry or unhappy, the real reasons for these emotions are far much deeper. The superficial action just acts as a trigger. Why get depressed because of rejection? Perhaps because this triggers a psychological fear that we dread and has underlying emotions? Why do the poor hate the rich? Why do the unschooled hate the schooled?
I don’t know anything nor think what I am saying is true. I know this though, replaying some of these experiences and trying to dig deeper has made my living more tolerable and less irritable.
Next time you insult me, or try to irritate me, I may just meet you with a smile (I frequently smile nowadays, sorry fellow melancholies 
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