One year, and nothing much has changed. The day still starts at the same time, work is unyielding as always, routines are etched in stone, goals and plans persevere… barring slight, inescapable modifications.
Ah, but there is one change: people, are different.
No, not that they are all more-or-less a year older. Not that they have changed in their nature to a significant, remarkable degree. It’s the whole “Once a thief…” syndrome at play.
Sidebar: Marginal changes are evident; expectedly so. Some habits have had more time to ingrain themselves in the veins. Some habits have faded. Some looks have changed. Hair has been dyed or streaked. Earrings have increased exponentially. Glasses have appeared, given way to contacts. Phones have changed. Diets too.
But these are just superficial morphs.
Irrelevant. Immaterial. Sustained!
Friends circles have changed. Some of the old ones have been weeded out –unintentionally, at times. Purely because some distances in geographies, tastes and ideologies have proven too large to bridge. Not impossible, just impractical, given current circumstances. Some have been pushed out with great effort, all for want of peace and quiet.
Some acquaintances have been upgraded. Some new inmates have put their uniforms and plates on newly emptied or newly built bunks. And cell doors have slammed shut. It’s now a question of whose name gets called the next time the doors swing open. Place your bets!
The heart has mourned those who’ve left. For some, it grieves still. The eyes have smiled at the immigrants, and left them to their devices, offering occasional pointers when solicited. Life has meandered around immovable events and circumstances. Water under the bridge -- precious fluid nonetheless. What’re a few tears among friends? What, indeed?
My cynicism rears its head yet again... undying, unrelenting, immortal and invincible. The hands of time may turn steadily; the sands of time may pour out effortlessly, on cue, much like clockwork; life may drain out of the very pores: one continuous ooze that shows no signs of clotting.
2008 looms ahead. Will it bring back all that’s lost? Will it bring forth new pleasures? Will it revive dying dreams? Will it heal old wounds? Or will it draw fresh blood and leave more scars?
The gut says: “Bosh, and nonsense!”
The heart cries: “Spare me!”
A tiny voice squeaks: “There’s always hope!”
The soul drowns them all out: “There’s one whole year to find out!”
2 comments:
It appears that you have managed to open Pandora's Box for the year 2007! You also appear to have discovered Hope at the bottom! We share your hopes with you. Best wishes for a very happy 2008 and a more cheerful blogging this year.
oh yes. there certainly is one whole year to find out. hear hear.
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