Tag: conflict

And Then One Day…

It was her secret. No one knew, not even her boyfriend. And she wanted to keep it that way. Telling people would mean speaking out and she wasn’t sure how to do that.

She had been mute for 22 years. People had thought she’d never speak out. Her parents had given up hope, and so had her doctors.

But then one day, he waltzed into her uneventful life. She stood on the pavement looking at vehicles clamouring past with no intention of stopping. The pedestrian crossing was just a dab of paint in her wheel-inflicted neighbourhood.

Every time she took a step towards the crossing, a car would whiz by, knocking the wind out of her and messing up her hair. And she’d step back onto the comforting pavement, and wait for another rare gap when the street would be less occupied.

After what seemed like hours, a man popped out of nowhere and stood at her side. He tilted his head to peek at the endless stream of vehicles, and then took a couple of steps back.

Heaving a sigh, he turned to look at her. “Busy street, huh?” he raised his eyebrows. Though she hadn’t heard what he said, she read him. And smiled, with a vigourous nod. He said nothing more, and she returned her gaze to the traffic lights, wondering if someone had tampered with it.

The next thing she knew, someone had grabbed her arm and dragged her onto the street. In one swift moment, she crossed the street. When she realised it, she was on the other side of the street, her hair all over her eyes, and the man heaving next to her. Her heart thumped in its rib cage and she breathed deep to bring it down to normal.

“What the hell did you do, you a — ” She almost blurted out. The words exploded inside her head, but not a sound escaped her mouth. He was smiling at her, expecting to say something. When she didn’t, however, he realised shouldn’t linger any longer. Waving at her, he disappeared into the building nearby.

Looking his figure shrinking in the distance, she mused, “asshole.” And this time, the word came out loud enough for her to hear it. For the first time in 22 years, she had uttered a word.

Let’s Talk Education

Or to be more exact, let’s talk studies and literature.

Some say those two words should never be in the same sentence. And if that’s the case, my whole life is a question mark. Because I study literature. But I don’t have a degree in English literature. I don’t see the point of it.

Too much of conflict in one paragraph?

I’m a literature enthusiast, but I don’t have a paper from a university to certify my interest. I study literature by studying the literature itself. Not the textbooks that other people (who think they have conquered the subject) wrote. Because when it comes to the written word, there’s no one way to understand it. There’s no right or wrong in interpretation.

Our system of education, however, forces students to read, understand, and memorise other people’s ideas. This may seem sensible for science or mathematics. Because those subjects rely on facts, and facts are facts no matter who writes them where.

But literature has more do with individuals. I don’t see the world the same way my mother sees it — even though she showed me the world. When no two people comprehend the same scene in the same way, how sensible is it to thrust one person’s perspective on a larger crowd?

But I love studying literature.

The best think about literature is that the student makes the decision. If you think it’s right, it is. If you think Shakespeare predicted British colonisation in his Tempest, then so be it. You are entitled to your opinion. The literature never tells you what to think. But a degree in literature not only tells you what to think, it also forces you to agree with textbook writers.

And that’s why I see no point in a degree in literature.

Cross-posting from my Medium blog.

IOUs Made Awkward

What’s more awkward than owing someone? Somehow though, whenever we say “I owe you,” we don’t think of owing someone something other than money.

sorry.jpg

Like an apology, for instance.

I owe you an apology. It’s awkward because I don’t realise I owe you. And even if I do, I wouldn’t want to apologise. Because, it’s demeaning.

Unlike owning cash for a petty party we crashed the other night, owing an apology isn’t as fashionable. There’s no pride in it. Sure, people used to frown even when you owed money, but that’s in the past. Now, owing money for a group outing is the posh thing to do. People have come to accept that youngsters spend their money and time on parties and food. It’s only natural.

But to owe an apology, is to make yourself vulnerable. How often do we hesitate at the send button after typing out “sorry”? It’s proof that you’ve been in the wrong, and we hate being wrong. It’s an inherent quality — the obsession with being right, and the ego that prevents us from accepting our mistakes.

No matter how big a personality, looking another person in the eyes, and saying you’re sorry is still too much for far too many people.

But what’s the point of living in a society if we can’t accept it when we’re wrong? What’s wrong with letting down that ego and just say sorry? After all, we’ve got nothing valuable to lose. On the contrary, an apology only shows we’re human, and broad in the mind. If only we can realise that “to err is human,” we wouldn’t let our incorrigible behaviour get in the way of happy co-living.

Life Cycle

I get paid to write. But there’s a price to it too: I write not for myself. I write for a business that sells to other businesses. And because I make it my business to deal with all this business on a day-to-day basis, I have opinions about the way people do business.

And I realised this only last evening when I was busy being busy. After three years, I realised it on a Friday the 13th. I was writing a blog about the various businesses that people do nowadays, about how the nature of money-making has evolved from traditional ways, and how people find creative methods most of us haven’t even heard of.

Like that common saying — “there’s an app for that,” — it’s amazing that every “app” is a business in itself. If you can imagine it, you can earn out of it. It’s a part of human evolution, and now we’ve begun to see the monetary value in every thing around us.

Whether it’s a tree with roots extending to the pavement, a sloppy drinker who couldn’t contain his wine to the glass, or a woman too lazy to clean her own nails, there’s a business for that.

But the weirdest thing of them all is that these businesses aren’t monopolies. They have competition, and heavy ones too.

As we grow lazier, and long for an extra beanbag to prop our feet up while binge-watching the latest in House of Cards, there’s always a businessman (or a few) caressing fresh bills. The more we choose comfort, the more businesses opportunities pop up. We once managed with one pair of shoes. Now we need one for running, another for weight training, and yet another for indoor sports. After all, we earn it, and we can afford it.

The more we earn, the more we want. The more we want, the more choices and business opportunities come up. And that just means businesses fighting more to outperform competition.

And here I am, writing for one business, against another business, so I can earn more and want more.

A vicious cycle, if there ever was one.

After the Darkness

chaos

Great changes await

the one that wills to endure

the chaos within