CONVERSATIONS IN MY HEAD - DIARY TWELVE
“Ara, I’m particularly down today. Looks like there’s a conspiracy to burst my excitement bubble.”
“Huh? Who’s conspiring against you?”
“Everyone. Everything. But more importantly, I’m really upset with the government.”
“Are you ever not upset with the government?”
“Yeah! Sometimes I’m blowing their trumpet so loud. But, today, I’m just so sad. When the ‘big men’ in our society travel outside the country to access health care services, is what they get the same as what we have in the country? How do they measure against each other?”
“Oh please! Don’t make me choke on laughter and my own spittle. If they were the same, would they need to travel?”
“I’m just wondering at the senselessness of it all. You go building other people’s economy and leave yours in the rut. How do you explain a case where the patient practically has to provide the bed they would use in the hospital? They are provided with a long list of things to buy – cotton wool, methylated spirit, water, buckets, even gloves! Goodness! What then is available in the hospital? One day, the patient would be asked to go bring the doctor that would attend to them, the facility for consultation will be provided.”
“You’re so dramatic!” Ara was reeling in laughter. Where he got the mirth, I couldn’t explain. This was not a funny issue as far as I was concerned. I was silently boiling over. “Relax. This doesn’t affect just one person you know? It’s a fundamental problem, one you can’t solve by unnecessarily getting angry. You need a clear head and a clear mind to think of a workable solution. Well, not exactly a solution, but a contribution.”
“I know. But it feels like being cheated many times over. Is there hope at all for the poor in this country? Will things ever get better? I love my country, but must it be so hard to find something tangible to love about it? People are frustrated and moving out on a daily basis. I daresay the good people are moving out. Those that can contribute meaningfully are relocating, leaving us with the same crop of pathetic, recycled beings. The common man on the street is gagged, if not by hunger, by fear. I wish I could cry, cry nonstop for a week. Maybe, then, my head would be clear, maybe the anger would be suppressed.”
“Dear friend of mine, restrain yourself. Keep your energy level up, don’t expend it on tears. One day, the poor, out of frustrated hunger, will march on the privileged and consume them. They will tear their flesh off their bones and inhabit their mansions, rags and all. If you have wearied yourself with crying, you won’t be able to join in the cheers. You need to save your energy for that time.”
“When will that be? When will the pittance handed to them stop controlling their brains? When will they summon the courage to stop taking fish and ask for a rod, hook and net? When will they open their eyes to see that what rightfully belongs to them is now being presented like a privilege? Will the day ever come? Will that generation that will put what is right over their pocket and gut ever arise? Will it happen?”
“Babe, calm down. It will happen. May not be anytime soon, but it will happen. Good always, always, pushes its way up, no matter how hard the ground is.”
“Huh? Who’s conspiring against you?”
“Everyone. Everything. But more importantly, I’m really upset with the government.”
“Are you ever not upset with the government?”
“Yeah! Sometimes I’m blowing their trumpet so loud. But, today, I’m just so sad. When the ‘big men’ in our society travel outside the country to access health care services, is what they get the same as what we have in the country? How do they measure against each other?”
“Oh please! Don’t make me choke on laughter and my own spittle. If they were the same, would they need to travel?”
“I’m just wondering at the senselessness of it all. You go building other people’s economy and leave yours in the rut. How do you explain a case where the patient practically has to provide the bed they would use in the hospital? They are provided with a long list of things to buy – cotton wool, methylated spirit, water, buckets, even gloves! Goodness! What then is available in the hospital? One day, the patient would be asked to go bring the doctor that would attend to them, the facility for consultation will be provided.”
“You’re so dramatic!” Ara was reeling in laughter. Where he got the mirth, I couldn’t explain. This was not a funny issue as far as I was concerned. I was silently boiling over. “Relax. This doesn’t affect just one person you know? It’s a fundamental problem, one you can’t solve by unnecessarily getting angry. You need a clear head and a clear mind to think of a workable solution. Well, not exactly a solution, but a contribution.”
“I know. But it feels like being cheated many times over. Is there hope at all for the poor in this country? Will things ever get better? I love my country, but must it be so hard to find something tangible to love about it? People are frustrated and moving out on a daily basis. I daresay the good people are moving out. Those that can contribute meaningfully are relocating, leaving us with the same crop of pathetic, recycled beings. The common man on the street is gagged, if not by hunger, by fear. I wish I could cry, cry nonstop for a week. Maybe, then, my head would be clear, maybe the anger would be suppressed.”
“Dear friend of mine, restrain yourself. Keep your energy level up, don’t expend it on tears. One day, the poor, out of frustrated hunger, will march on the privileged and consume them. They will tear their flesh off their bones and inhabit their mansions, rags and all. If you have wearied yourself with crying, you won’t be able to join in the cheers. You need to save your energy for that time.”
“When will that be? When will the pittance handed to them stop controlling their brains? When will they summon the courage to stop taking fish and ask for a rod, hook and net? When will they open their eyes to see that what rightfully belongs to them is now being presented like a privilege? Will the day ever come? Will that generation that will put what is right over their pocket and gut ever arise? Will it happen?”
“Babe, calm down. It will happen. May not be anytime soon, but it will happen. Good always, always, pushes its way up, no matter how hard the ground is.”
Comments
Post a Comment