He picked up the fruit basket from the table with a lot more force than required. That was due to the third rejection he had had in the last week in a particular department. After each rejection they had picked a person inferior to him in skills.
He placed the basket down on the mattress as the fruits shuffled a little. He scanned through the oranges that the basket contained and picked up a plump one, with a smooth texture and a satiating aroma. Yet as he turned it over for further inspection he saw a hole which a stem from another orange probably made. From that area, it was slightly rotten. He instantly put it down searching for another orange.
He wondered what his flaw was; he was intelligent, kind when talking to people, had an enormous amount of patience, determined, hardworking; there was little he felt he was prominently lacking. True he had a problem dealing with new people but that was it; other than him being obese.
He picked up another orange finding it comparatively flawless; a few small dents did not matter to him. Was obesity that much of a problem? Was it his fault that he was born this way? That none of the ways; starving, exercising for hours helped him escape the taunts of his fellow classmates.
He finished the orange and picked up the next one, sighing and dropping it back for he had picked the rotten orange again. He felt frustrated and near tears. He expressed anger yet he was crying deep within. He helped himself to another orange which turned out to be unripe yet he ate it up.
The same images of being bullied at school, sitting in a lone corner at the playground, scuttling from the part were someone to see him, running through the neighborhood while the kids called him names… all those memories returned to him. It was the same situation. What was wrong with him? He had asked nothing of the sort. Why was he being constantly rejected?
He sniffed in a few tears, wondering how his glamorous cousin would react were she to see him in this state. "You are a worthless fatso" she would say. "I am a worthless fatso" he repeated out aloud. He reached for another orange and as he looked at it he felt further enraged that it was again the rotten orange.
He stood up; this orange was as if toying with him, coming within his reach too many a times to bear. He strode to the dustbin with the intention of disposing off this orange. Yet as he was about to drop it… he stopped.
He stood there wondering for a moment then scurried back to his mattress and quickly peeled it. Then he held the orange in his hand, carefully inspecting it. It was completely flawless other than a single hole, having affected only one slice. He carefully separated it in half and ate the slice closest to the rotten one. It was extremely delicious.
Suddenly he started crying. He wailed while he laughed alongside yet he cared not if someone heard him. He had finally realized that it was not he who was at fault for being rejected. After all this orange, rotten in one slice, delicious otherwise was about to be rejected exactly three times by him. It kept coming back for him to reconsider yet he kept rejecting it.
The problem was not with him; it was in human nature. Humans had their own perceptions; they gauged a person in a manner that he could not comment about. He had no say as to why he was being rejected. He might excel in any other attribute but it finally came down to their personal likes.
Rejection did not mean he was any worse; it meant the people failed to see him like he had almost failed to see this orange. He wiped away his tears and ate every slice of the orange, even the rotten part and felt a strange relation with its extremely sweet taste. He then washed his hands and went to his cupboard, pulling out his dress suit.
He felt a strange happiness; it mattered not now what people thought about him. He would live like he wanted and keep accepting rejection until he was satisfied that the people he was approaching weren't worthy of him.
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