The Four-Letter Word

Not too long ago, we were forced to accept the tragic fate of our fellow countryman who - in his quest for qualification to be able to educate the nation - died in what was called a freak accident. As we anticipated a response or perhaps a quick comment by the local state government to address the issue of falling trees in our neighboring country, we received an eerie answer instead by a similar incident which took place in our very own nature park. At that point, I was convinced that such dangers were never too far under the surface.

A week later, yesterday, another local father gave up on his mountain hike and subsequently his life when yet another tree fell on the tent he was resting in. This coincidence seems like a calling to the selected few. Can you already hear the alarm bells ringing? For those who require clarification, yes, trees do fall without chopping, or natural striking to take them down. Now, how’s that to begin a queer imagination on the vulnerability of life. If I were caught under a tree as an angry young man, I might think I should have been a suicide bomber. But if I were pragmatic, I’d say, take half-loaf and make the best of it.

I watched Juan Carlos Fresnadillo’s film, 28 Weeks Later, recently. The idealistic goal in the show was to rebuild a country from scratch, by pushing the British back to the virus-annihilated British Isle. No prizes for guessing, but you probably got that right. It was the “US Army’s” goal. When you’ve got your hands on everything, those hands had better be clean. Blood was shed in the manner of one, followed by two, then four and sixteen, so on and so forth. The law of multiplication can be seen clearly via exponential wealth in businesses these days. However, I doubt we should lose focus on how plagues might hit us hard and good one day.

As for one that’s close to my heart and perhaps to some of yours as well, I was given the classical finger as I was the man on the wheel, responsible for almost running down a father with a kid in his arms. Aights, no forgiveness required, but here’s when I say, it’s my bad.

Live well folks. It’s just that once we’re talking about here.