Today I had
to go outside for a chore and I instantly regretted my decision. It was so hot
outside I thought I would melt and become a greasy stain on the sidewalk. The
air was so syrupy and dense that it was difficult to draw in a breath without
singeing my lungs.
The words
of the Romanian writer I.L. Caragiale popped into my boiling, bubbling brain:
“Caldura mare, monser”.
“It’s sweltering, old boy”.
Little did
he know what sweltering truly meant…
The streets
are almost empty. Almost nobody is crazy enough to venture outside, stepping right
into the mouth of Hell. A few shops are open, mainly selling cold drinks and
ice-cream. I enter one of them to cool down a bit.
Thank God
for air conditioning.
I go
outside again and because the neighborhood is deserted, I have the opportunity
to really look at it, while I walk. It is one of the older neighborhoods in the
city.
But disappointment
has a sour taste…
Everything is
so dirty.
From the
old buildings to the alleys between them. Plastic bags and paper cups roll
along the pavement, courtesy the wind. You can smell the trash cans from a
distance, even if you haven’t seen the clouds of flies hovering over them. The
earth is dry and peppered with litter. Every shrub, every plant, every bush
seems to have collected its share.
I walk through
the sleepy streets and reminisce.
This city
wasn’t in such a sorry state before, when I arrived here, was it?
I don’t
remember clearly.
I remember
the streets looking much cleaner, the buildings less dusty. I don’t think there was this much trash
everywhere.
Or maybe
then I chose not to see it?
Because I
was young and enthusiastic about starting a new life here, perhaps?
Perspiration
runs down my back. I congratulate myself for bringing a hat with me, at least I
won’t get a sunstroke.
Heat
stroke, maybe.
Surrounded
by big, grey buildings I feel them emanating heat. With almost no trees and no
shade whatsoever, the landscape is depressing and almost alien.
Times are
changing.
People are
changing.
And here,
under the hot, unforgiving sun I came to a conclusion.
I don’t like it.
I don’t
like it at all.
I don’t like
where we are headed, as humanity.
In don’t
like that even when we talk about progress, we are still the same cave people
that bashed each other’s heads in for a chunk of meat.
I don’t
like that we have grown complacent and ignorant and plain stupid in a world where
stupidity sits on the golden throne.
I know I
cannot do much.
Even if “be
the change” is a nice mantra, I don’t think it is true.
Una
hirundo non facit ver,
said the romans.
A swallow
does not make a spring.
I cannot be
the change even if I willed it with all my heart.
And I have
many examples to give, but I will stop here.
I won’t
tell you about me cleaning the area around the garbage can because it was full
of shards of glass after somebody shattered some windows nearby. And I did that
because I didn’t want the street cats to get hurt.
Nobody ever
followed my example. On contrary, they continued dumping trash everywhere, just
not in the bin.
I won’t
argue with my neighbor that smokes in the building, filling the halls with
acrid smoke that permeates everything.
I won’t ask
people not to crowd into the elevator because it might get stuck.
I will just
stand aside and watch them destroy every last bit of hope I had for my fellow
humans.
Because,
one way or another, we are doomed.
And I won’t
be that change anymore.
I won’t be
that swallow anymore.
Because it
doesn’t mean anything.
Not
anymore.
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