I remember his sorrowful eyes when I attempted to have a brief conversation with him. The eye contact was brief, to avoid showing his look of embarrassment if it was any longer. It's the eyes of someone who doesn't want to be where he is, yet he had to. He had no choice. There are many hundred thousands like him in the country. I wonder how do we give, while protecting the dignity of the other. It is as if giving, even a little, is a reminder of the state they are in. What more reminders could there be when they are reminded of it everytime - each time the winds, the rain and the coldness of winter get to their bones, the starvation, the loneliness, the millions of faces passing by and them having nowhere to go.
In the midst of joy and celebration today, may we not forget the ones without a home or shelter, the ones travelling and are away from their loved ones, the ones who have lost and are grieving, and those who are struggling a lot more especially during this holiday season.
It has been more than 2 years since I published anything on this blog. I have written a few reflections quite abit during this time, but they are mostly in draft versions, probably reflective of the scatteredness of my thought processes, or the ongoing engagement with the topic which has yet found a proper resolve (or is there ever a resolve really?), or just me finding mere words to articulate my thoughts that are waiting to be entertained and possibly verbalised or written. I'm driven to write this post precisely because I can't entirely ignore the nagging voice inside my head, telling me to use writing as a tool to not only express myself, but to reclaim my voice. It is such an insanely noisy world. The constant stream of information from different online platforms not only pull me from various directions, but it spreads my attention too thin that it is impossible to follow one stream of thought, sit on it for awhile, slowly reflect and if possible, articulate it. It is not
Comments
Post a Comment