The cult of not complaining is a way of deflecting consciousness from the inequity of the system we live beneath, while masking this self-deceit as stoic heroism performed in the face of adversity.
Home Sweet Home
The Reunion
We talked our way to a raggedy field, where we sat in the sparse grass and he condemned our past relationship, bid it good riddance, flipped it off. After half an hour of this I asked if we could find a place for me to pee, which led us to stand and to walk more, two hours more, to be precise.
A Terrible Dizziness
“Who is this?” I asked, exasperated.
“I asked you first,” he said.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Okay, I didn’t. This is Elmer Doyp.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Oh no, I’m not,” he said.
Repurposing a Challenge
I believe deeply in paying attention, in trying to be truly aware of the small and large things that happen to us and around us.
Present
Working led to questioning of the promises lingering, not quite upheld, and with no end in sight.
The Long Way Home
Fatema visited. I stood at the window, while she stayed about two meters away. Eesha didn’t know. It would have been wrenching, if she came and I couldn’t hug her. Or would she understand? She was seven after all and wanted to learn everything.
What is quarantine? She had asked. She would still call every day, and ask the same question: when would I go home?