“This isn’t a lie or a tell tale. It is as real as life is in dreams…in which before you wake up you had no idea that it was a dream”.
I read it aloud in a sharp, steady tone. Making it easier for me to comprehend what I just read out. Subsequently thought to myself on how it would feel to suddenly wake up and discover that the present now wasn’t as real as I thought it was. And on how many times more I’ve to wake up till I finally discover the true real life that has been so elusive for something that’s supposed to be…real.
I knew it belonged to someone in my family and it isn’t appropriate to read other people’s personal belonging but I was too intrigued now. my curiosity shadowed my judgment and guilt. I returned my gaze to what I was holding and once again resumed reading but this time in a lighter more cautious tone, ‘I curse myself, I am cursed! Though I clearly know that what truly matters is within and not on the surface.’
‘But the next minute I see something attractive I am attracted to it. And when I see something that is not, I look away. I know that I am not supposed to but it seems to be in my nature to react that way.’
‘I ask myself again, do I understand that it’s what’s inside that count? I nodded a little in agreement but still with a slight amount of hesitation, I realized. As I write this I am aware that I am not able to come up with an answer without a certain amount of uncertainty. I think about it and am saddened by it. I have to free myself from this curse but clueless I am in which path I should undergo in order to lift the curse.’
I once again jumped pages, this time on the top right it stated, ‘June 9th 1989’. I studied the place around me. Listening for any sound or movements and then looked at places vulnerable to intrusion and I stared at them for a while. When I was satisfied that I was completely alone I continued.
I read it aloud in a sharp, steady tone. Making it easier for me to comprehend what I just read out. Subsequently thought to myself on how it would feel to suddenly wake up and discover that the present now wasn’t as real as I thought it was. And on how many times more I’ve to wake up till I finally discover the true real life that has been so elusive for something that’s supposed to be…real.
I knew it belonged to someone in my family and it isn’t appropriate to read other people’s personal belonging but I was too intrigued now. my curiosity shadowed my judgment and guilt. I returned my gaze to what I was holding and once again resumed reading but this time in a lighter more cautious tone, ‘I curse myself, I am cursed! Though I clearly know that what truly matters is within and not on the surface.’
‘But the next minute I see something attractive I am attracted to it. And when I see something that is not, I look away. I know that I am not supposed to but it seems to be in my nature to react that way.’
‘I ask myself again, do I understand that it’s what’s inside that count? I nodded a little in agreement but still with a slight amount of hesitation, I realized. As I write this I am aware that I am not able to come up with an answer without a certain amount of uncertainty. I think about it and am saddened by it. I have to free myself from this curse but clueless I am in which path I should undergo in order to lift the curse.’
I once again jumped pages, this time on the top right it stated, ‘June 9th 1989’. I studied the place around me. Listening for any sound or movements and then looked at places vulnerable to intrusion and I stared at them for a while. When I was satisfied that I was completely alone I continued.
“Everyone is one only divided by phase and circumstances”
I take that what he wrote above was the title of this time’s writing. I continued venturing lower, the hand writing a little messy than before but nevertheless readable. But I liked it anyhow it was small but not too small and it showed the complexity of the writer. It was the sort of cursive looped hand writing.
‘It is known that that there are people around us. Some who we consider luckier and some who are not as, but at times I feel as the most wretched of all, like everyone’s detestations were arrowed towards my direction. That God himself was repentant of my life. Could all this feeling be caused because I feel only for myself?
I stopped, looked around me once again, took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. I had trouble understanding what he wrote this time so I skipped a several pages, it went, ‘we were there sitting on a couple of long metallic poles that was sticking out of the asphalt road that could fit 5-6 people on it. The seats were green in colour. It was a noisy night and the air smelled of exhaust smoke, cigarette smoke and garbage. Then I realized a huge dustbin that had rubbish piling up and sticking out of it -- my friends next to me were busy looking at passerby’s as there were many passerbies’s that night. Some were tourists, some locals, hawkers and just people from everywhere. Everyone seemed busy with their lives walking towards a destination.
There were people right ahead of where we were sitting; just a few feet away, street vendors were merchandising their goods. They sold goods from socks, hand bags and anything sellable. I look at their children who came with their parents. Little kids who should be at home sleeping at this hour. Their clothes dirty with dust, food stains and the colours appeared seasoned and washed off.
I noticed one of the little ones chasing a cockroach that was making its way on the street, heading to somewhere in particular. And a child followed the cockroach obviously intrigued by it—the cockroach as if annoyed of being followed made its way to the middle of the street, it made a bad decision, a huge mistake and was soon trudged by giant oblivious feet that were directed to somewhere. It tried to persevere and struggle to move to a safer place but that was the end of another toy. I too instantaneously without remorse moved on.’
The weather outside was getting dark and so was the inside. I put the reading material I was holding down. Stood up and made my way to the windows and yanked the curtains open. Despite being dark, it looked peaceful and still. Breeze blew in my face, I could feel it caress my skin and the coolness of the wind was cold but rejuvenating. I smiled a little, felt at ease and relaxed once more. I walked a little, switched the light on, sat on the floor, picked the thing lying on the floor and resumed reading it.
‘I was now concentrating on the vendors every movement and was more focused on how they reacted with the customers, towards their children and with each other. For some reason they didn’t notice or didn’t care of my sharp stare. I was studying them trying to come up with an answer. I spotted weariness in their face apart from that I couldn’t tell. I look at them keeping an eye at their kids and calling them when they were playing out of boundary. I saw the way they smiled, it was real. Was it contentment? I asked myself. And why do they smile? I questioned again.
‘For what reason do they strife so hard? A life that is filled with hard work, in order to earn an earnest living and that no matter how clean their lifestyle is, They’re are still at the bottom of society and will still be looked down at – a life without respect and acknowledgement and so little value…A life that even fails the ‘hierarchy of need’ according to the Maslow’s theory, a theory nonetheless.’
‘My friends didn’t seem to share my thoughts and whenever I mentioned things such as this; their reply would be of how I should think about myself first and that I am in no position of saying that I am any better in life. This was life and I am part of it, this is how it works and i am not capable of changing the way it works. Be realistic they’d say, and told me to accept and grow up. It was true, I guess u agree with them.
“Saraah, Saraaahh.” I heard. Someone calling my name, I Once again placed the material I was reading on the floor. I peeked out the window hurriedly but found no one. The voice was familiar but one that I couldn’t recognize. I said to myself that my mind was probably playing games with me. It looked like it was about to rain outside. I inhaled the fresh air in as if trying to cleanse my lungs with it. The cool air was as refreshing and had a way in keeping me at ease. I looked at my surroundings once again and when I thought it was safe. I moved back to where I was and picked up the reading material.
‘I didn’t see a reason on why they resolve to such a life. I decided to try and put myself in their shoes, in their world, I closed my eyes. A few minutes passed I could hear the racketing from the street but my thoughts were somewhere else, concentrating. As I opened my eyes, I realized that it was more about means of surviving compared to anything else. Not to chase wealth but to live, eat; feed, and for shelter. It is true that some gets it easier than others.
Surprisingly enough I could see happiness in their eyes when they smiled. Maybe it was the right thing for them to do. Accept life and be content and be grateful. But what about their children, haven’t they noticed that the life of their infants were as bleak if not darker than present? They’d most probably end up where their parents are, doing the same things their parents did. “You are the product of your environment; your parents’ wealth determines your future.” A friend told me that once. I never have forgotten it. He might’ve said it out of anger, but it made sense.
Life is unfair and so are dreams that start out pleasantly but only leads to nightmares and more nightmares -- To an extent that you no longer anticipate your future but fear it.’
I didn’t feel like continuing. I forwarded a few pages and stopped at the last paragraph. I wanted to know hot it finishes, ‘the next afternoon I woke up with stitches on my head and bruises all over my body. My body ached so badly and it even hurt to even shift a little. I shouldn’t have gone over to the hawkers and state my opinion on what a terrible mistake they have done by bringing children into the world. Despite the hurt, it somewhat elevated the weight on my shoulders that I felt last night, at least momentarily. It was expected from the hawkers – their actions, they were cursed too, with a life, with surviving skills, ignorance and pride.’
I closed the book… exhausted from the reading. I felt my head all clogged up, I got up and decided to get out and indulge in something more relaxing and cheerful.
I take that what he wrote above was the title of this time’s writing. I continued venturing lower, the hand writing a little messy than before but nevertheless readable. But I liked it anyhow it was small but not too small and it showed the complexity of the writer. It was the sort of cursive looped hand writing.
‘It is known that that there are people around us. Some who we consider luckier and some who are not as, but at times I feel as the most wretched of all, like everyone’s detestations were arrowed towards my direction. That God himself was repentant of my life. Could all this feeling be caused because I feel only for myself?
I stopped, looked around me once again, took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind. I had trouble understanding what he wrote this time so I skipped a several pages, it went, ‘we were there sitting on a couple of long metallic poles that was sticking out of the asphalt road that could fit 5-6 people on it. The seats were green in colour. It was a noisy night and the air smelled of exhaust smoke, cigarette smoke and garbage. Then I realized a huge dustbin that had rubbish piling up and sticking out of it -- my friends next to me were busy looking at passerby’s as there were many passerbies’s that night. Some were tourists, some locals, hawkers and just people from everywhere. Everyone seemed busy with their lives walking towards a destination.
There were people right ahead of where we were sitting; just a few feet away, street vendors were merchandising their goods. They sold goods from socks, hand bags and anything sellable. I look at their children who came with their parents. Little kids who should be at home sleeping at this hour. Their clothes dirty with dust, food stains and the colours appeared seasoned and washed off.
I noticed one of the little ones chasing a cockroach that was making its way on the street, heading to somewhere in particular. And a child followed the cockroach obviously intrigued by it—the cockroach as if annoyed of being followed made its way to the middle of the street, it made a bad decision, a huge mistake and was soon trudged by giant oblivious feet that were directed to somewhere. It tried to persevere and struggle to move to a safer place but that was the end of another toy. I too instantaneously without remorse moved on.’
The weather outside was getting dark and so was the inside. I put the reading material I was holding down. Stood up and made my way to the windows and yanked the curtains open. Despite being dark, it looked peaceful and still. Breeze blew in my face, I could feel it caress my skin and the coolness of the wind was cold but rejuvenating. I smiled a little, felt at ease and relaxed once more. I walked a little, switched the light on, sat on the floor, picked the thing lying on the floor and resumed reading it.
‘I was now concentrating on the vendors every movement and was more focused on how they reacted with the customers, towards their children and with each other. For some reason they didn’t notice or didn’t care of my sharp stare. I was studying them trying to come up with an answer. I spotted weariness in their face apart from that I couldn’t tell. I look at them keeping an eye at their kids and calling them when they were playing out of boundary. I saw the way they smiled, it was real. Was it contentment? I asked myself. And why do they smile? I questioned again.
‘For what reason do they strife so hard? A life that is filled with hard work, in order to earn an earnest living and that no matter how clean their lifestyle is, They’re are still at the bottom of society and will still be looked down at – a life without respect and acknowledgement and so little value…A life that even fails the ‘hierarchy of need’ according to the Maslow’s theory, a theory nonetheless.’
‘My friends didn’t seem to share my thoughts and whenever I mentioned things such as this; their reply would be of how I should think about myself first and that I am in no position of saying that I am any better in life. This was life and I am part of it, this is how it works and i am not capable of changing the way it works. Be realistic they’d say, and told me to accept and grow up. It was true, I guess u agree with them.
“Saraah, Saraaahh.” I heard. Someone calling my name, I Once again placed the material I was reading on the floor. I peeked out the window hurriedly but found no one. The voice was familiar but one that I couldn’t recognize. I said to myself that my mind was probably playing games with me. It looked like it was about to rain outside. I inhaled the fresh air in as if trying to cleanse my lungs with it. The cool air was as refreshing and had a way in keeping me at ease. I looked at my surroundings once again and when I thought it was safe. I moved back to where I was and picked up the reading material.
‘I didn’t see a reason on why they resolve to such a life. I decided to try and put myself in their shoes, in their world, I closed my eyes. A few minutes passed I could hear the racketing from the street but my thoughts were somewhere else, concentrating. As I opened my eyes, I realized that it was more about means of surviving compared to anything else. Not to chase wealth but to live, eat; feed, and for shelter. It is true that some gets it easier than others.
Surprisingly enough I could see happiness in their eyes when they smiled. Maybe it was the right thing for them to do. Accept life and be content and be grateful. But what about their children, haven’t they noticed that the life of their infants were as bleak if not darker than present? They’d most probably end up where their parents are, doing the same things their parents did. “You are the product of your environment; your parents’ wealth determines your future.” A friend told me that once. I never have forgotten it. He might’ve said it out of anger, but it made sense.
Life is unfair and so are dreams that start out pleasantly but only leads to nightmares and more nightmares -- To an extent that you no longer anticipate your future but fear it.’
I didn’t feel like continuing. I forwarded a few pages and stopped at the last paragraph. I wanted to know hot it finishes, ‘the next afternoon I woke up with stitches on my head and bruises all over my body. My body ached so badly and it even hurt to even shift a little. I shouldn’t have gone over to the hawkers and state my opinion on what a terrible mistake they have done by bringing children into the world. Despite the hurt, it somewhat elevated the weight on my shoulders that I felt last night, at least momentarily. It was expected from the hawkers – their actions, they were cursed too, with a life, with surviving skills, ignorance and pride.’
I closed the book… exhausted from the reading. I felt my head all clogged up, I got up and decided to get out and indulge in something more relaxing and cheerful.
