Published: 02:48 PM, 02 December 2020
Flickering lamp post, exhausted like the world
--- Syed Nabil Ahsan
The clock struck midnight and it was December.
2020 has set a footprint in everyone’s lives.
The year, so desolate and doleful, is growing old. The year was growing like a tree around everyone’s lives and is now weeping at the sight of everyone’s dismay. As the cold wind stung my skin, and as the night trickled into dawn, I made my way across the street.
The wind showed its exasperation further and I hid further inside my jacket. I walked by the street, which showed no sign of life. Families hiding behind the dystopia this plague has created, with a hope diminishing feeling.
A river creek, all dried up, where in the bank, lovers used to find solace. The dawn painted the darkness with ink but will it be the birth of a new day? The world has been embracing darkness all this time and yearning to find the promise of a bright morning.
I reminisced on the times when the roads were bustling with people. When the sky was imprinted with kites. When people fought for their favorite movie tickets.
I remember the sweet smell of grass, the rustling of autumn leaves and the chilly wind which indicated winter was almost at the doorstep. I was back in reality from my contemplated thoughts, back where I’m standing on the forsaken street, where a single lamp post kept flickering, getting exhausted, just like the world.
Rage tormented me every day. I realized the rage was grief in the light of this plight. There was no escaping --- the silhouette of our regrets, the insurmountable mountain of our chasmic fears and the bottomless ocean bed of heartaches.
Syed Nabil Ahsan is in third semester BBA in Finance at North South University
