A lot has happened since the last time I was here, in my favourite part of the world. Alina and I finally moved for one, and it's been a very interesting experience. Doing everything from scratch is something we should all take up every once in a while. The act gives us a renewed appreciation for all that we take for granted. Hopefully that leads to appreciating all the things that really matter down to the air we breathe in.
But as I settle into my new little life, surrounded by my own little needs, worrying about my own little issues...things happen around me at a much larger scope. Things deteriorate slowly with every passing day.
My home country has been thrown into utter turmoil once again. Emergencies imposed, constitutions thrown out the window, people rounded up and jailed. Isn't it surprising that all media is shut off for days to shield the people from really knowing what's going on...it reminds me of the dreadful communist regimes that we were scared of growing up. Where even the most basic freedoms are taken from you. For this current situation where people are scared of speaking their mind just because they will be thrown in jail, where media is controlled by the government and the daily news is just a press conference by the ones in power...how is any of this different from the most suppressive of the communist states.
Live shows...banned.
Discussions...banned.
Anything criticizing the government...banned.
All other points of view...banned.
Isn't it ironic that we chose the path of extremism to defeat extremism. That we propagate fears of our own to distill fears...it's coming full circle in the cruelest of ways. But I guess cruelty is the one thing we have excelled ourselves in over our development as a species. From caves to castles, all the while learning to be just a little more cruel.
I wish I had a river, I could skate away on...
When I call my family now, they avoid discussing anything that's going on, as if they fear that uniformed men will storm in and take them away, and no one will hear from them again. It's surprising that even though I sit thousands of miles away, I know more about what's happening to them then they do. I was chatting with a friend earlier and he said, very matter of fact, that you don't know what's happening unless it's happening to you, and then it's too late.
Back home, somehow life goes on anyway. People drive in and and out of work, still meeting deadlines, as if nothing affects them. The best way to eradicate the fear of zombies is to become zombies, well our fears should have evaporated by now.
But then, I am now just a spectator, seeing through other eyes, my vision always limited by what they want me to see. The true picture seems like a Woody Allen joke now. A little sarcastic, a little narcissistic, and a whole neurotic. Some might even say I have no right to say what I say, as I moved away, left for greener pastures. But then, even as I graze the greener pastures, my thought are stuck with the thorny terrains I left behind.
Before setting out I promised myself to come back soon, but now I wonder if there would be anything left to come back to. Feels nostalgic now...all those care free late night drives, just hanging out in deserted corners of a calm city, a cone in December followed by a coffee. I wonder if any of that would ever come back, or if the kids I watched grow up will ever know that care free abandon. Being totally free, like Superman flying over the Metropolis skyline.
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