xyz, “Hey! I saw you there!”
moi, “Really?! I didn’t see you…”
xyz, “I saw you walking out of the room half way through the show… Why left so early?”
moi, “Hmm… the cold and the smoke… were suffocating.”
Everything was suffocating. The thought that I was enjoying those luxuries while, outside, people were struggling on daily basis, was suffocating. The thought that I excused myself to have these once in a while, was suffocating. The thought that those people (and I) could actually contribute something to help out yet preferred fence-sitting or just simply turning a blind eye and not caring, was suffocating.
xyz, “What were you doing there anyway? I thought you deemed those things off-limits.”
I did…. I do.
moi, “Just taking a cousin out for a walk. She’s under the pressure of University entrance exams… A bit of entertainment wouldn’t hurt, I suppose.”
But it apparently did hurt in different way.
Maybe it’s because coaching my cousin on exam-prep brought back memories of similar challenge I’d gone through years ago. At the time, Queen‘s “Greatest Hits II” had been playing continuously on cassette player, accompanying late night rendezvous with maths and physics. One track stood out for it spoke of my internal turmoil as well as the one coiling outside my window, out loud.
“Under pressure that burns a building down, splits a family in two, puts people on street. It’s the terror of knowing what the world is about, watching some good friends, screaming ‘Let me out’….
“Pressure on people, people on streets…
“Turned away from it all like a blind man, sat on a fence but it don’t work. Keep coming up with love but it’s so slashed and torn. Why? why ? why?
“Insanity laughs under pressure we’re breaking…
“Can’t we give ourselves one more chance? Why can’t we give love that one more chance? ‘Cause love’s such an old fashioned word. And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night. And loves dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves….
“This is our last dance…. This is ourselves.”
… and it still stands out.
xyz, “Haha! you still haven’t sorted out that old problem of yours, apparently….”
moi, “What’s that?”
xyz, “You think too much.”
moi, “Do I?”
Looking back, nothing has changed indeed. But why does conscience seem to wither away?
Ya Allah, please don’t let that happen…
*…… reflection on 10 years of reformation……*