Look. When people start using the same adjectives that commentators for decades have held in reserve for Shahid Afridi to describe you, it does make you question the entire universe, and your place in it.
Is it weird that I keep bringing him up?
To be very honest, he has been a major part of all our childhoods, has he not? Maybe not so much the impact as the sheer span of his presence.
Anyway, let us shift away from this topic before the Nationalist Brigade breaks into my house to confiscate my passport right on the eve of this fairly moderate, but nonetheless noteworthy, landmark.
Yes! Right now, at this moment, we have completed 52 weeks online. I would’ve made a New 52 reference, but I have not read any of those. I’ll just read them the next time Barry Allen refreshes the timeline.
And if, by any chance, you are failing to comprehend the importance of 52 weeks, I would say that serves as a scathing indictment of our schools.
Might as well just stop funding them altogether, eh, Big-Guy-With-Unexpectedly-Tiny-Hands?
Anyway, we really ought to come back to the aforementioned adjective…
You see, it has been brought to my attention that I may exhibit an unusually blasé attitude in face of gruesome events, such as the recent instance of violence in London.
Yeah, you know which one… The single incident that was globally televised, in a city which sees roughly twenty thousand violent crimes every month.
Of course, one cannot undermine the heinousness of the act itself, especially upon considering the place, time and modus operandi.
However, I do believe one must also look at it as an isolated act by an unstable man with a tendency towards violence, and not morph it into a buzzword that may conveniently allow local authorities to shrug off any culpability.
“I wonder what it says about the country that finds itself terrorised by one guy with a knife,” I remarked casually, during the discussion that ensued, earning the irk of our very own Shruti. I am pretty sure she must have, at that very moment, seen me as an incorrigible prick.
She is not wrong, either, but I do stand by the legitimacy of my logic, however inappropriate the words may have seemed at the moment.
“I believe,” I continued to justify my reasoning, “people, and regimes, make far too big a deal out of terrorism, which leads to a vicious cycle of fear, hatred and paranoia, which is exactly the point of terror.”
As one would expect, the discussion then drifted towards a definition of terror, which is probably an exercise in futility.
Nonetheless, I do feel I would discuss it, albeit at a different time.
The point, here, being that it may often be difficult to predict what exactly would trigger me, and what would wash by without leaving a trace.
In my own opinion, it is not completely random, for though this be madness, yet there is method to it.
In hindsight, I must say that I still do tend to digress far and wide from the topic, do I not? One would expect that, after entire year and exactly a hundred posts, I would have rid myself of this habit.
But, well, apparently not.