One quiet spring day a passenger train with a roar and clang raced to the outskirts of Tokyo. Our car was comparatively empty - it drove a few housewives with "children of their own and the elderly, to go shopping. I calmly looked out the window to run past shabby houses and dusty hedgerows.
At the next station the train doors opened, and suddenly the afternoon calm was broken by a man who shouted furiously inarticulate oaths. He is a really burst into our car. It was a big drunk and dirty man, dressed in coveralls. Shouting something, he rushed at a woman with a child in her arms. The blow she was on her knees in a middle-aged couples, the child miraculously was not injured.
The couple hurried in alarm at the other end of the car. Hardworking leveled to kick the woman in the back, but missed and she managed to evade the blow. This is so angry drunk that he grabbed a metal rack in the center of the car and tried to wrest it from the support. I noticed that one of his hand was hurt and bleeding. The train moved on, who were passengers in the train froze with fear. I stood up.
Then, twenty years ago, I was young and was in good shape. The last three years I have regularly up to eight hours a day to study aikido - a Japanese wrestling. I liked the throws and grappling. I considered myself cool. The trouble was that my skills of the not been tested in real combat. We are involved in Aikido, not allowed to fight.
- Aikido - more than once my teacher - the art of reconciliation. Whoever thought up to fight in violation of its connection with the universe. If you try to dominate people, you have already defeated. We are learning how to resolve the conflict, not how to start it.
I listened to his words. I am very much tried. I even went so far that the transition to the other side of the street to avoid a collision with a punk that revolves around train stations. My indulgence enraptured me. I felt both powerful and sacred. However, I would encounter absolutely legitimate opportunity whereby I might save the innocent and punish the guilty.
- That's it! - I said to myself, getting up. - People in danger. If I do not quickly take something that someone may suffer.
Seeing that I stood up, drunk, realized that he is on who to send your anger.
- Aha! - He shouted. - A foreigner! You have to learn Japanese manners!
I took the belt loop over his head and threw it on a drunken disdainful glance. I intended to do away with him, but he had to take the first step. I wanted to anger him even more, which sent him a humiliating kiss.
- Excellent! - He yelled. - Now I'll teach you! - He was ready to pounce on me.
For a fraction of a second before he moved away, someone yelled: "Hey!". It was a deafening scream. I remember how strange joy and enthusiasm he sounded - as if someone had met a man whose long and hopelessly searching for:
- Hey!
I lurched to the left, drunk, swerved to the right. And we both stared at the little old Japanese. He clearly long over seventy, this medium height gentleman sitting in his immaculately clean kimono. He did not pay any attention to me, but his face toward luchilos hard worker, though he was a very important secret that he was going with him to share.
- Come here - asked the old man in his own language to the drunken and waved to him. - Come here and talk to me.
Bully followed the call as if it were a rope. He stood before the old man, militant legs apart, his cries drowned out the sound of wheels.
- From what this article I'll talk to you? Now the drunk stood back to me. If his elbow will move even a millimeter, I'll teach him a lesson. The old man continued to smile radiantly.
- What are you drinking? - He asked, his eyes lit up with curiosity.
- I drank sake, - he growled in response. - And it does not concern you!
- Oh, that's fine - the old man replied, - just beautiful! You see, I love sake. Every evening, my wife (her seventy-six) warms up a little bottle of sake, take her into the garden and sit on a wooden bench. We're watching the sunset and look, how is my persimmon. This tree is planted even my great-grandfather, and we are worried whether it would recover from last year's frosts. However, our tree has postponed all even better than I expected, taking into account the meager soil. Very nice to watch him when we have with a sake, and we are happy to spend evenings on the street, even if the rain! - He looked at the hard worker, his eyes burned with a mischievous twinkle.
When drunk, listening to the words of an old man, his face gradually began to soften, and fists slowly relaxed.
- Yes, - he said. - I love persimmons, too ... - His voice ceased.
- I understand, - said the old man - and I am sure that you have a beautiful wife.
- No, - replied workaholic. - My wife died. - Quiet swaying with the train, a huge young man began to sob. - I have no wife, I have no home, I have no work. I am so ashamed of myself. - The tears rolled down his cheeks, a spasm of despair ran through the body.
I stood there with his young scooped innocence, with his far-fetched right and others felt dirtier than he.
Then the train reached my stop. While the doors opened, I heard the old man sympathetically lamented.
- Yes, - he said - do you really was in dire straits. Sit down here and tell me everything.
I turned to take a last look at their fellow travelers. Work sat on the seat and rested my head on her knees the old man. The old man gently stroked his dirty matted hair.
When the train departed, I sat on a bench at the station. "What I wanted to achieve with his fists, was carried out with kind words. I have personally seen Aikido in action, and the essence of it was love. I should approach the art of combat with an entirely different position. It will take some time before I can resolve conflicts with words.
/ Terry Dobson /
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