A beggar was sitting on the ground in a Yaumatei underpass this morning, as I returned home from my jog. Both of his lower legs were swollen, sickly pink with brown blotches. They caught my attention. But like most people who passed by, I could not bear to look at them for long.
I couldn’t help to notice, however, that his lower legs were swollen in a way that they appeared to be covered by thick, additional layers of skin. What gave me that impression, I realized later, was that there was a ring of depression just below the knee on each of his legs. And the rings looked suspiciously like what tight, heavy rubber bands might do to your skin. Could it be possible that the condition was, heaven forbid, man-made, or worse, self-inflicted?
What sort of warped thinking, or desperation, would drive someone to do something like that?
Am I being too cynical?