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August 05, 2005
Mist
The mandatory “thank you” note after the interview was sent late in the evening on the second last day in the gulag. He sat back on his chair and thought about how slowly the entire thing was sinking in his head. He found it a little strange that only a week before, some were urging him to hang on and bear with it at the gulag. A week later and after he secured his freedom, people were saying that it was the only right thing to do. Then, he thought about the uncertain future and smiled wryly because at the end of it, it was his life and his alone.
He found it handy to use the self-deprecating humour of how he would be eating a meal of curry gravy and rice under the banyan tree whenever there was an opportunity to share with the people around him of his situation. Most of them would laugh heartily, if they knew him long enough. Some would laugh uncomfortably and a handful would have bewildered looks on their faces. Only one took it upon herself to critcise him for exaggerating his circumstances. Perhaps it was humour indirectly at the expense of others.
Securing his freedom left a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth. The bitter, disproportionately huge, was directly linked to the fact that he would face uncertain days ahead, when once again, he would have to think about his finances and the bills. It was bitter as well because he would be spending at least two weeks at home and that could well be a recipe for disaster, since he had stopped going to the shrink. Other than the trip to Hong Kong, which he knew was ill-timed, he thought he needed to keep himself occupied during the fortnight. Perhaps this was a foretaste to come of what retirement would be like.
The sweet came with the fact that he would no longer be hemmed in at the gulag and was at the beck and call of the gulag masters. His weekends were his to meddle with once again. He could do loads of reading. He could finish the writing projects which came along the way. Most of all, the despair and the stress from work at the gulag would no longer trouble him and give depression a foothold through that.
***
He decided to turn his back on senseless debates on the internet. He would remain a spectator and leave the wrangling to others. He still had in his possession an old newspaper article dated 13 June 2001 which, to his knowledge, was the very first write-up on blogging. It inspired him to publish his amateurish writings online and hone his skills as long as there were the reserves of creativity within.
His only desire now was for the return of the day when people blogged not for the sake of fame or recognition or to thump their chests, but simply for the love of the written word.
***
Other than these, he knew that it was time once again for him to find himself again, amidst all these confusion and strife.
Posted by D W at August 5, 2005 10:06 AM
Comments
DW, why would you consider yourself "not upper-class" of blogging community (in mb blog)? your writings are great =)
sincerely:
the girl whom you set a blog for a couple of years ago, and she is still blogging. haha =)
ps: that nasty email from Sheesh! -> he/she didn't know what he/she's missing!
Posted by: luthien at August 6, 2005 12:34 PM