The first draft of this post was originally written on a page on my phone. The digital screen was made to mimic a ruled page.
I had made it mimic a ruled page. I am not sure why I did so. Maybe at that point, I was hoping for some order in my life. As it seems unlikely in life, I wanted to keep my pages in line. Hoping it would bring some order and relief.
By the time I copied and pasted it into the blog draft screen, the feeling was gone. All hope was gone.
For those who are wondering, how am I writing all this in the same post and in the past tense too? It is because it’s not the first draft that you are reading.
As the feeling disappeared, the draft did too.
For a while, my phone was on top of a book called ‘The Gollancz – BOOK OF SOUTH ASIAN SCIENCE FICTION.’ It promised to show some kind of picture of the future. I intend to read that book. I have been intending to do so for some time now. But I don’t find any picture of the future interesting enough.
I am typing this on my phone while occasionally skimming through the book. I will read it. I promise.
I will come to the point and say things that I avoid saying. Like saying it will make it come true. Like it’s not already true.
The world is a broken place. I don’t know if it’s worse than it was 10, 20 or 50 years ago. I know that it’s broken. Its people are broken. Everyone. And like me, no one wants to say it. Most do not wish to acknowledge it or even think about it. Like thinking about it will make it come true. Like it’s not true already.
I try to write about this fragmented world and try to make sense of it. (Again, like most others who see the fragments.) But I wish to tell them and myself, the writing about it, or any other attempt to make sense of it, will not heal it. It’s late.
Yet I write as I see the world in those fragments.
Yes, Absurdities.
I had left my tea to brew before I started writing this post. It must be over-brewed now.