Fast. What happened to the slow silences of life? What happened to the moments of grace and quiet? Life has become such a collage of streaks and splashes that the meaningful monochromes have been left unnoticed. What happened to the mellow memories of yesterday? Has life gotten too fast for us to catch up to it or have we gotten too fast for life to catch up to us? What even is life? Is it a collection of events and accomplishments or is it an experience of wonder at the marvel that is existence? Does it stem from our desire for love, humanity, romance, passion, and poetry or from the desire to win in a race that you forced yourself into? What does winning and losing in this race mean? Do they adjudicate our lives? Do they mar the sheer joy that we feel through love? Love towards every muddy puddle that we jumped in? Love towards every mango that we devoured as kids with missing teeth? Love towards the people who make us whole? Yes. They do. In an age where relationships are treated as battles and exchanges against each other and not for each other; in an age where we are so lost in a sea of chaos that peace sounds like a cacophony, they definitely do.
Where did it all go wrong? When did life go from a journey defined by yourself turn into a race defined by the positions of others? When did we leave rising up with our medals in favor of being dragged down by those of others? When did wealth go from a means of sustenance to one of spite, hate, disgust, and cruelty? WHY did that happen? What happened to the days where humanity preached was humanity followed? Why are we living in fake worlds when the real one is more beautiful than anything we could ever imagine? Why are these fake worlds translating into real life? Why have we grown incapable of seeing life for the beauty that it is? Why are we forcing our reality on others, killing them in the process? Why must WE win? Why can’t we ALL win? Is that so hard to fathom? Speed is a funny thing. We went from wanting to be faster to wanting others to be slower. What happened to the days when people loved unconditionally and lived for one and all? Are those days even possible now? Maybe. Maybe not. But should we try? Undoubtedly. We must climb out of the pit of fickleness that we have made life to be. We must end the hiatus of humanity.
Do my words have meaning? Maybe to others they don’t. But to me they are the culmination of all the days gone by and the days that are to come. They symbolize the love that exudes from me. They are a result of pain and hopeful desperation. They are a juxtaposition of the good, the bad, and the ugly. They are an expression of angst towards the people who disrespect the privileges of life and choice that they have been given. Do these people even WANT to climb out of the pit? All I know is that I want to. I know that no matter what, I’ll try my hardest. If not to make people stronger, then to make the world gentler. I know that my fellow humans have to. I know that we have to put an end to humanity’s hiatus, because if we don’t do it ourselves, who will?