Sunday, June 13, 2010

The Sorrowful Ending of a Curious Cat

I have begun to understand the phrase 'curiosity kills the cat'.

There was a time in the past when we were just some other young alley cats trying to figure out about the neighborhood and its perimeter; the everyday activities that govern the entire neighborhood social system, the different types of living organisms that form a massive complex system of diplomacy and administrations through complicated networks of communication, the works that were done with an aim to expand the entire population and the flaws that both directly and indirectly affecting all the activities from one to another via chains of reaction that soon before everyone knows it change everything.

Many of us learned all this from observations. You can never really tell how much of information you can gather from just sitting at a corner and look around you, harvesting one by one clues and facts that you can see before doing series of analysis in your mind trying to explain and justify every word and action and soon begin to fit them into your own consciousness to whether or not you agree to the acts. And from here you begin to understand and separate bad from good, and with this very primitive foundation of legitimization you start to go for more to gather more knowledge and information for you to justify, from which in the end you use to create your sense of integrity and individual personality that not a little after contributes to the vox populi.

And then you soon begin to understand that by having these information; facts, ideas, thoughts, expressions, stands, wisdoms and arguments you slowly pull your status up higher than the big rest of you, placing you at a higher division; a group of similar individuals who have precisely the same intelligence and wisdom that you agree upon to be the people you belong to, in much or less the social way. But prior to own judgment you begin to give each specific members of the group entirely different classes based from their degrees, to which you specify those who are relatively smarter than you to be in the upper class, you and those at par in the middle class and the rest as the lower caste. Though mostly not many people do admit this - the act of classifying - it is wise to note that we do this everyday; from buying ketchups according to their tastes and brands to selecting spouses according to their value and criteria that fit your list.

And soon you begin to challenge those in the upper class by first challenging yourself to take yet another step up the ladder, matching those on top of you in what we usually refer to as the social struggle for status by means of competing. Aggression gets the best of you. You push your way up and leave those who are not fit enough to stay behind, God be with them you say, while making your way higher by the minutes. You soon to enjoy the good feeling by being relatively intelligent, richer, wiser, even more aggressive, you enjoy the fame and you enjoy the game. You look at the people below you and you feel sorry but somewhat superior, only to know that there is still a group of social animals who are far more superior than you are that you still have the need to challenge.

You keep on pushing your way up anyway from time to time, promoting the survivability of the fittest, and you knock down every opponent that happen to be in your way. Ego gets to you, pride grows in you, and arrogance blanket around you. Bruised with scars from the battle wounds, you get stronger from every strike you get and keep pushing forward. By this time, you are considered to be unstoppable.

But along the way you stop and think:- 'what had happened to me?'. You soon begin to realize that you have been pushing so far, nonstop, towards a goal that redefines and repositions itself each time you fulfill it. It seems that the struggle never stops. You turn around and see that there are so many people far behind you that you have left long ago, and you on the other hand are standing alone by yourself, tired on your worn and weatherbeaten legs. You keep looking at them and you realize that they are having fun, taking their time with each other, laughing and smiling and loving. Why don't that happen to me?, you'd ask.

And then you get back to your own primitive fundamental in judging; finding clearer voices and vices of truth that tell you that things will be alright, you make legit of all your actions, and you come out with pure lies to tell yourself that you did alright, that you are now even more superior than everyone else, that you are stronger and wiser and better, and you make fit of all the flowery judgments to all juxtapositions over and over just so that you will feel better, so that your acts are justified according to your consciousness. You lie to yourself so that you feel better.

But it seems that the people you left behind are far more happier than you are. There are no worries in their faces. Their lives are much simpler and easier. They are far more laid back and relaxed. Their laughters are real, their smiles are genuine. And almost as suddenly you feel the warmth radiating from the group, slowly passing around you for a little while, and you feel the invigorating calmness. You close your eyes and you see you are surrounded by those people; you hear them cheering and laughing. There are people socializing so casually, there are couples holding hands and there are musics in the air. No depressions, no heartaches, no nothing.

But soon as you open your eyes, they are not there. You are still as alone as you are, standing by yourself surrounded by the coldest of wind and the darkest of darkness. You feel the instant distance in your heart; a sudden tick that increases your misery by the seconds; you cannot breath, your vision becomes impaired, everything seems to be so blurry. Your knees bend forward and you fall with gravity and into the grey ashes of your failures and the gold dust of your victory. You bury yourself in them and from only weeping you grow an endless cry of sadness and sorrow that no one could ever heal. Everything flashes back before your eyes; from the day when you roam the back alley till the day you fall in your own glory. Who is there to help? Who is there to hug you, comfort you? Loneliness is a disease you cannot cure. You long for the old days where you were just a young, small alley cat that knew nothing of the world but enjoy most bits of it. But it is too late, it is just far too late, it is already too late. You know this, you always know this.

As you creep into the fetal position hugging your knees, burying your head in it and cry your heart out, you still can hear them laughing cheerfully in the distance, before you die a curious cat.

* * *

"With great knowledge comes great sorrow."


Alan said...

I recently visited your blog. It is a very interesting one. Keep it up.

Travel-Bunny said...

Its funny how sometimes you have everyone, yet you have no one.

There's so many around you, yet you still have no one.

But when night falls, Knees curled up to your chest, in a fetal position, you cry your heart out.


Is the one thing in the whole wide world, that i understood, how it feels like exactly.

Hidayah said...

Totally agree with u SunShine!