When I was in Grade 3 among the essay topics we had to choose from at the Second Term exam for Sinhala was one titled ‘ma kurullek nam’ (If I were a bird). At the time I felt it was a strange and yet fascinating topic to write on. I can’t remember all things I would have done had I been endowed with wings at the age of 7. I remember mentioning that I would make use of the facility to watch cricket matches for free. Later, I realized that this was a ‘usual’ topic given to children of that age.
I know children are often asked to write about what they would or
would not do if they were Head of State.
I doubt if children are asked to image themselves as reptiles or
thieves, petty politicians or terrorists, mendicants or those who have eschewed
worldly pleasures. They are asked to
imagine themselves as birds and butterflies, fairies and king I’ve often
wondered what kind of thoughts walls would have, if they did have the capacity
to think. So here’s a short essay on a topic of my choice: ‘Ma thaappayak
nam’ (If I were a wall).
I write as the Secretary of the All Walls Association
(AWA). This is our breaking-the-silence
communiqué. AWA represents all walls, long and short, high and low, made of all
materials, thick and relatively thin, those separating domestic units from one
another, those demarcating different functions such as sleeping, bathing,
watching television, parking space etc.
We surround the high and mighty as well as the poor and humble. We
encase the convicted and exclude those who believe they are free. And a few years ago we broke into the
internet as well. Just think about
it? Do ‘windows’ make sense if there
were no walls? And how can wallpaper
exist without us?
We outnumber the world’s population many times over and if
there’s an ounce of kindness for each brick that make each of us the world
would be war-free and indeed wall-less.
Our tribe watches the world that passes by and the world
that occasionally glance at us. We know
so many secrets but are sworn to secrecy.
We are civilized and therefore keep silent. Suffice to say that we can
embarrass a lot of people, not only on account of the villainy they’ve
conspired in our midst but the fact that they are hardly the heroes they claim
to be. We’ve see love and betrayal,
murder and sacrifice, agitation and meditation. All in silence.
People probably think that we are face-less. Perhaps this is why they frequently cover,
uncover and re-cover us with all kinds of faces. Maybe they think we don’t have
names, for they not only give us ‘face’, but give us ‘name’ as well. We are the
marketplace of self-promotion. The
general public is called upon to look at us and make a choice between this
tuition class and that, among bars of soap or perfume brands, this film or that
and so on. Some people probably we are
ashamed of our nudity or that a coat of paint is outrageously flimsy. So they cover us. Not with an extra coat of paint, but with
words, lines, colours, faces, all kinds of goods and services. Sometimes the burden of carrying the world,
other people’s world that is, is enormous. We are weary.
Some believe we are spittoons. Some think we are urinals. Some lean on us for support and others to
make hurried love. And some crash into
us, die upon us. We get no thanks. No apology.
We share this worth with extinction-resisting,
immortality-seeking species. We ask for
nothing and are given things we really have no use for. This is our first and last communication. This is just to say, ‘this is it’. We are suffering from what we’d like to call
species-exhaustion. We can take rain and
sun and die the natural deaths imposed by the play of time and elemental
energies but not all the things we mentioned above. We really cannot take it any more.
Take us down. We have nothing to lose but spit, urine and a
lot of braggadocio that lead parasitic existences on us. Without permission.
Take us down. Yes, all of us. All walls. Extinct us.
Thank you.
Malinda Seneviratne is a journalist and can be reached at msenevira@gmail.com
0 comments:
Post a Comment