Bare Minimums

Human beings are a weird minimalistic species. Even when the world is ending, simply because we didn’t do enough to protect it- instead of saying “from now on we will collectively build a better world, so we never face extinction like this ever again.”- instead of such indomitable resolve, all we want is for things to go back the way it was

All we can think about is “my bare minimum”. Not career, economy, society etc etc. All we miss is- My one weekend drink. My little desk. My favourite person. My one TV show. The whole world can change or not change and all we care about is the “bare minimums” we had. We say to ourselves, I’d be fine with all of this as long as I get my object/person/activity X back.

Nah, I’m not gonna start an anarcho-communist rant about classism and ecofascists. It’s raining here in Dhaka, along with a heavy thunderstorm. I’m gonna ponder instead, and try to remember the bare minimums I had.

©instagram/@__shadhin

My bare minimums were rare little things. Coconut water in mason jars and cigarettes. Gossips, childhood stories and leftist rants. Auto-rickshaws at 11 pm and tea shacks with a handful of people. My favourite pair of shoes and a bracelet. My kittens and testing my patience.

May be I would have found a home. On a lazy autumn day, surrounded by a tiny crowd. Unbeknownst to myself, home would be there. Sitting nearby. I would be unaware of her presence. The universe would try to bring us together. The universe, like little a child, fingers crossed, hoping I’d notice her. As I ran my fingers through my hair, I’d notice her.

But the world had to fucking end. The illusion about a home is that we think they’re permanent. They’re not. May be they are if we try hard enough. But I was never enough. Never even had the luxury of trying either. The universe, like a little child, cruel. Got up and left when it was done playing.

Original illustration:- instagram/@__shadhin

I don’t think I want things to go back the way they were. I want this world to give me a break. So I can spend the next thunderstorm wrapped up around someone’s fingers. I want to wait outside someone’s home at 11pm. I want my getaway on a beach. I want my bare minimums.

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