As the scientists in CERN discover the God particle, a news channel shows more proof about the end of the world this December.
My mother wants to enjoy the last few months, assuming we’d all die. Somebody is out there in the bank mortgaging their only home, to send his child off to a foreign land for higher studies and another who has a sore back from all the extra work to buy an extra half a kg of dal for her kids back home.
There is a girl crying over her breakup and another excitedly looking for that perfect dress for her first date. There’s a geek who is happily beneath her books and another who is taking his PhD at the age of 17.
There is my neighbor’s dog, sleeping happily in their freshly mowed lawn, under the warm sun, turning to look at my balcony when the wind chime rings. “What your problem? Let me sleep!” he says with his eyes and goes back to sleep.
There are Aunty Jis watching the Saas-Bahu saaga and waiting for the evening to set in so that they can gossip. There are people who bear being mocked by their superiors at work or worse, their colleagues.
There are people who meet new people and become friends. There are strangers who, out of no where, provide help when needed, even if the help is in the form of a faint smile.
And there are news channels which, again , show more proof about the end of the world this December.
Next January wouldn’t be different either. The jobs ‘might’ be different, the friends ‘might’ be different, the Aunty Jis’ attitude ‘might’ be different, the stranger ‘might’ offer more than the faint smile, but it wouldn’t be the end, it’d just be different.