Beyond Beliefs

I started this blog in 2007, living as a student in the United States. It was a quiet Southern city with jobs dominated by the university so it lacked the vibrancy of a college town, leaving precious little to do after classes. I didn't have the money anyway. I did not start writing with the express purpose of chronicling life or bitching about the vagaries of a seemingly malevolent universe. I simply wanted to do something and writing seemed a more appealing choice rather than visiting the excellent recreation center more often. 
Making great choices since forever, that's me.

While I was aware of the conservative nature of the region, I never felt overtly or covertly discriminated against. The only time I encountered anything close to it was on a whitewater rafting trip in rural Tennessee. Back then, I didn’t fully appreciate the South’s placid charms, longing instead for the energy and crowds of northern cities like New York or Chicago. When I returned to the US ten years later, my perspective had shifted. The slow-speaking, courteous South felt more appealing. Sure, that “courtesy”, often a default, surface-level niceness, could act as a shield, but it still seemed more palatable than the aggressive, fast-talking rhythm of the North. How things change.

Speaking of change, what do I say about the US today? My musings about the days of yore are mundane when compared to the surreal moment when the world's richest man, now intertwined with one of the most sanctimonious and oppressive governments on Earth, unfurls a Nazi salute. That bizarre scene brought to mind a moment from Batman when Keaton’s Bruce Wayne, surrounded by villains, picks up a sword and yells, “You want to get nuts? C’mon. Let’s get nuts!” It feels like the universe is Wayne right now, teetering on the edge, breaking down in the face of humanity’s sheer incompetence.

The absurdity lies not just in the moment itself but in the predictable reactions to it. Some commentators, hiding behind nuance and semantics, will deny and defend what is clearly a public slide into fascism and authoritarianism. These pundits present themselves as reasonable, which makes them even more dangerous, sowing doubt in your own beliefs. Orwell, I’m sure, had the perfect words for this in 1984. They want us to drown in debates over technicalities - why something isn’t genocide, why one side is less wrong than the other - all while people die, the climate worsens, and the future dims.

Not that the other side is any easier to bear. Their sanctimony, fanaticism, and delusions spark visceral reactions. Change takes time, especially cultural and societal shifts, but patience seems to be in short supply. Today, reactionaries dominate the stage. And this is just the global picture. I haven’t even touched upon the myriad problems in my own country, and I’d rather not, if that’s okay with everyone.


In the midst of these dreadful moments, my first instinct is to hide under the proverbial blanket - seek creature comforts - some good food, drink, and quiet time away from phone notifications and the relentless onslaught of staying up-to-date with a world sliding into further despair and hate. Staying home, enjoying my morning brew, watching the light change amongst the trees through the day, hitting the gym, and designing a steady routine that minimises stress and doesn't require me to commute much considering I live in the fourth most congested city in the world is about all I can ask for.

No doubt someone is dying to scream "privilege" but honestly, fuck them.

Some days ago, a movement outside the window caught my eye. It was a kite stuck in a tree, fluttering wildly when an occasional gust of wind hit it, before letting it rest and fluttering again. It struck me as the perfect metaphor for life right now.


Whether it's watching India lose test matches in pathetic fashion, Manchester United be humiliated on the football pitch on a weekly basis, the ridiculous workplace machinations or the monotonous rituals of daily life, every aspect feels stuck. Occasionally something will come along to shake things up and make them seem interesting and worthwhile, flutter around like the kite, as it were, and then go back to a limp stasis. 


Does the kite remember life before being stuck in the tree? Does it wonder if this is all there is? Does it long to break free, knowing it must first fall to the ground before it can soar again?


Perhaps most of us are just kites being strung along.