realities
Are experienced differently, in different places, different times.
Mumbai. Blood cakes to reddish-brown stains that blend with the dirty railtracks; reminders of the carnage and destruction of over a 100 train commuters. There is sweat mingled with tears, streaking down faces contorted with pain and sadness and rage and despair. Crowds and crowds of black, dirty white, faded colours and brown, mostly male, with terrified women huddling against each other in the background, adding a dash of colour with their saris to relieve the atmosphere. Video serves to capture snapshots of whatever is left behind, in the wake of terror. Terror so real, yet remote as we watch the news in our homes, all across the world.
Perth, Western Australia. An elderly couple sits out at the patio that overlooks an expanse of water, artificially constructed. The wife smokes her cigarette, lazy tendrils drifting, drifting, floating over her platinum blonde cropped hair. The husband is quietly reading his latest Sidney Sheldon. Or does he read Sidney Sheldon anymore? Who reads Sidney Sheldon? Maybe Jeffrey Archer, possibly. The brisk winter breeze sends a shiver down her spine, who is already bundled up in 3 sweaters, a scarf and thermal underwear. The coffee is turning cold; the cigarette ashes are scattered in atom-esque wisps. Both sit in the silence that has become so comfortable, and dangerous. Because hardly anything is ever said anymore, except furrowed talks about money, and debts which translate into very different expectations of what retirement life should be like. She contemplates prison ministries, Jesus, horse-riding lessons for her granddaughter, her future in Perth. He closes his eyes and feels the pain of his worries as a dull throb at the back of his head. No time to rest. An image of parrot fishes flood his mind like a streak of bright-red blood, and he wonders if the fish tank has been cleaned, back home in Singapore.
Because my reality isn't that attractive to me at the moment, I take refuge in indulging in others.
Mumbai. Blood cakes to reddish-brown stains that blend with the dirty railtracks; reminders of the carnage and destruction of over a 100 train commuters. There is sweat mingled with tears, streaking down faces contorted with pain and sadness and rage and despair. Crowds and crowds of black, dirty white, faded colours and brown, mostly male, with terrified women huddling against each other in the background, adding a dash of colour with their saris to relieve the atmosphere. Video serves to capture snapshots of whatever is left behind, in the wake of terror. Terror so real, yet remote as we watch the news in our homes, all across the world.
Perth, Western Australia. An elderly couple sits out at the patio that overlooks an expanse of water, artificially constructed. The wife smokes her cigarette, lazy tendrils drifting, drifting, floating over her platinum blonde cropped hair. The husband is quietly reading his latest Sidney Sheldon. Or does he read Sidney Sheldon anymore? Who reads Sidney Sheldon? Maybe Jeffrey Archer, possibly. The brisk winter breeze sends a shiver down her spine, who is already bundled up in 3 sweaters, a scarf and thermal underwear. The coffee is turning cold; the cigarette ashes are scattered in atom-esque wisps. Both sit in the silence that has become so comfortable, and dangerous. Because hardly anything is ever said anymore, except furrowed talks about money, and debts which translate into very different expectations of what retirement life should be like. She contemplates prison ministries, Jesus, horse-riding lessons for her granddaughter, her future in Perth. He closes his eyes and feels the pain of his worries as a dull throb at the back of his head. No time to rest. An image of parrot fishes flood his mind like a streak of bright-red blood, and he wonders if the fish tank has been cleaned, back home in Singapore.
Because my reality isn't that attractive to me at the moment, I take refuge in indulging in others.
posted by The Queen of Suds at 1:57 pm
1 Comments:
so are u indulging in e israel-lebanon war as well?
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