The meaning of 2017
We are drawing to the end of the year. Less than four weeks of this crappiness to go. If you listen closely, there is a palpable sigh of…
We are drawing to the end of the year. Less than four weeks of this crappiness to go. If you listen closely, there is a palpable sigh of relief. 2017, for reasons external and for conflicts internal, has been quite crazy. For those who don’t bother to learn what the news is, because what is news today becomes olds tomorrow, not much has changed. The jinx of knowledge is to be blamed here. The ignorants carry on with their lives regardless of which hashtag trended or who became the president in which country or when a prince is going to marry an actress or how a country is being forced into famine. Besides, when you’re repeatedly bombarded with too much mis/dis/information from all canons, you tend to believe that the world is nearing its doom.
Except that it isn’t.
First thing first, the despair of 2017 is more of a mental construct. Entering 2018 won’t magically cure us of our personal problems. To paraphrase Red: “Same shit, different year.” Nothing much would have altered with the dawn of a new year. Football fans will be delighted to be nearer to Russia. The same shall be true for the cinephiles eagerly waiting for the blockbusters to release. If you excuse these hopefuls of the different order—every little factor, from the good to the bad to the Trumps — would be the same. In the first week, a wave of hope would certainly brush your being though. You’ll be filled with motivation to eat healthy, exercise hard and get back in shape — literally and figuratively. You might even join gym or taking up dancing or yoga. How long that phase lasts is a matter of your endurance.
Second thing second, the world is not anywhere close to its exit. Maybe we are as a species but this world is going to be fine. It has not only seen worse but also survived it. On account of what we’ve done to this planet in a relatively short period of time is as much an achievement as an affirmation of our suicidal tendencies. Earth and almost non-human creatures— with the healthy except of dogs — hate us. Imagine the mass celebration they’ll conduct when we’ve finally left the burning stage. Or maybe they’ll remain nonplussed. Our curse is that we’re not going to get off so easily. We’ll ruin more of this beautiful nature in the coming decades and in return, our grandkids will suffer a lot more. We are already consuming the uneatable, drinking the undrinkable and breathing the unbreathable. And this is just a start.
Last thing last, if there is anything that 2017 has taught us, it’s a teething truth that we know exactly what’s going on. We just pretend otherwise. Why? Because it suits our motives. We understand we are not happy and basically posturing our way through the day. We secretly accept the flaws in our ways but are too afraid to do anything about it. We hide behind words like success and progress and future while screwing the present to shreds. We ape others lest somebody points out our utter lack of comprehension. We are fragile throughout and consumed by fear. We aren’t thankful enough and feel sorry for ourselves. We are always seeking moments to escape ourselves but it’s getting difficult with the invasion of technology. Our eyes are open and our atoms are ashamed of what we witness. For something made of stardust, we are not going to last forever. Which is why we don’t ask each other the meaning of life because we’ve learned by now that the meaning changes with each passing year.