By: Aiman Pasha
When tomorrow comes, how different is it going to be?
We can see her perched on their fire escape. Dull city lights, the faint buzz of traffic merging with the light chatter of strangers walking below them. An unlit cigarette is dangling between her lips. A soft R&B melody sails with the light breeze, unhampered. Everything goes. Her short dark hair is ruffling ever so slightly as she closes her eyes. The vivid memory of the previous day dances behind her shut eyelids.
In an alternate reality, a child of barely 5 or 6 is running around under the scorching sun. The expansive meadows reach far beyond what the little one can see. A little sweaty and out of breath, he tries to climb up a tall tree near his home. Ah but he scrapes his knee and start to sob. Just a few heartbeats pass and he leaps forward, skipping in the dry grass.
Cut to another place and we see an elderly couple sitting down at their dinner table, wrinkled smiles and a wholesome silence. Maybe they’re feeling slightly alone, but no word leaves either of their mouths. It’s a quiet evening, one that both of them hold dear to their hearts after hearing the news that they may move on soon. The pretty birds whistle in a low tone as the couple contentedly cleans up after they’re done.
Somewhere on the Earth, we can see an anguished person pacing in their small accommodation that reeks of old fruit peels. Perhaps something has left them agitated; they now hang their head low. After doing a quick search of the nearest supermarket, they pull on their only hoodie and frantically head out, constantly on the lookout. It’s unethical, what he is about to do, but he can only think of his starving brother in this moment.
And so, everyone is busy untangling their own threads of life, not once looking up to see what is unfolding around them, what is withering away, what is ripening. Their minds are sweeping, polysemic like a secret story. Their eyes are the colour of boom, the explosion waiting to happen. Every passer-by has a life as vivid and complex as your own. Some may think we’re living in a separate timeline from the world, as if we’re never in sync with the concept of time as we know it. We are given 24hrs in a day and 365 days in a year and who knows how many years in our lives, but we have probably lived days longer than a decade and years shorter than a sigh. Constantly moving, everything goes. Will tomorrow be any different? Will the brand new day unfold another set of mysteries? Perhaps the Earth’s axis has shifted just another degree. When the minute and second hands overlap, the world holds its breath for a little while.
҉
image- (everything goes by RM)
Comments