“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.”
Sylvia Plath is right. I’d never be able to write what I truly feel about this thing.
There’s something with the title that seems to have gotten stuck to me. When I decided to write this post, I jotted down my recollections of all the scenes (alike) I’d experienced growing up. Images blur and merge. There was this person who would come to our house to collect the cable charges at the end of every month. That’s when my father would tell me stories of his exploits. I was enamored of his resilience, and the way he dealt with the curveballs life threw at him, without regret.
Needless to say, today’s incident sent me back to 2000s. Some things about me have stubbornly refused to change. I get too emotional at times, you see.
The kid in the picture is the son of our housemaid, whom I prefer to call ‘didi’. Here’s the conversation I had with him today:
Kid: What are you watching?
Me : A comedy show. Comedy- People laugh at somebody’s jokes.
Me: What do you watch?
Kid: We don’t have a TV.
I didn’t know what to say next.
There is a similarity between the kid and the aforementioned man. They are both poor, though in a way somewhat different. I don’t know if didi’s struggle to save her home and herself through a period of time shaped by poverty would ever be successful. I don’t know if this inquisitive kid (Yes, He is. He knows tapping on ‘battle’ will start a battle in Clash Royale.) would get things that are so ‘common’ among us.
But what I do know for sure is that they are one of the many loosely connected episodes when spliced together would make a show- ‘Blackholes of poverty’. For some, it would be a thing to laugh at, a comedy show and for others, it would just be a ‘hard thing’ to write about!