Thoughts
I am eating cheese with chopsticks.
Or, more accurately, I was eating cheese with chopsticks. I melted a bunch of cheese in a cup as a snack for this whole writing session, but then finished it in one go while I was procrastinating over a keyboard. I think that says a lot about me and our society. But procrastination is not our topic for today.
I see I have begun this new format for myself. It’s more non-fiction and chill, and I like it.
Our city got flooded today due to heavy rainfalls. I went down for something urgent and the road directly in front of our apartment building was overrun with murky, brown city-water. City-water is what I like to call the runoff water in cities that dissolves in itself all the murk, filth, and refuse of the millions of city-dwellers.
The place where I live doesn’t get flooded too easily, at least not this much. The water level on the street was higher than I had ever seen it to be, which is made more surprising by the fact that it wasn’t even raining that hard. Still, it wasn’t that high and I, in my infinite naivety, didn’t think too much of it.
I was contemplating whether to just splash through the water or hire a rickshaw. In the end, I did the latter since I found the water a bit too unpleasant to step in. As we went forward, the water got deeper; but even still, I didn’t think too much of it.
And then the rickshaw turned the corner, and it was like riding into a river. Everything was underwater. Everything.
I’ll spare you the details, but to be honest, it was not that bad of an experience. Sure, city-water is disgusting and unsanitary, but it was a new experience, and one to remember. Even when we had to turn back on our path because they had to close the building doors since the water level was too high. Even when a car passed by in high speed and sent a huge wave of water that washed over my legs. Even when, after everything, I had to step into the water anyway while trying to get where I needed to go. As someone who is privileged and as a city dweller, I seldom find myself so helpless in the face of the elements; and honestly, it was exhilarating.
When I came back home the streets were still deep underwater. I came by another rickshaw. For those unaware, this is a rickshaw.
As the rickshaw puller, who was an old man, pulled the vehicle through the deepest part of the water (it was almost waist-deep), he was smiling and joking with the other rickshaw pullers and asking them if they brought their boats. I liked that, it made me happy in a way I can’t quite express.
Back home I washed my legs thoroughly and put my trousers in the laundry. I wonder now when that old rickshaw puller got to wash his legs. It’s possible the opportunity still hasn’t presented itself, night through as it is.
When I’m writing about issues or triumphs I am faced with, I am often pulled back by larger concerns. I want to tell people to see the good in bad and am reminded that other people have it much worse than I do. I want to talk about the waterlogged state of our city then am reminded about complicated politics and how I don’t understand most of it.
But I do believe in the things I believe in, and I guess I have to own that.
I was annoyed today not by the rivers of dismal water I had to wade through, but by how much it cost me. 70 takas in total for about three rides. I won’t convert that amount to dollars because I think regional expenses don’t translate well between countries. The cost was both small and large. Large, because all my life I have never spent a dime getting to the places I went today, I always walked. Small, because thankfully I have the financial stability to more-or-less ignore this amount. However, it still kind of stings. Kind of.
What I find funny (and also slightly depressing) is how my concept of money is largely context dependent. Remember when I said I was procrastinating while browsing keyboards? I am planning to gift myself a mechanical keyboard, and I am trying to find one I like online. I love typing, I absolutely adore it, it’s one of my gateways to having thoughts, and I think a mechanical keyboard would be a nice thing to have. What’s funny is how easy it is for me rationalize buying such an expensive and non-essential object and simultaneously haggle with a poor rickshaw puller over 10 takas. 10 takas is almost worth nothing these days.
I see that this article is trying to wrap several morals in one tortilla and stuff it down the reader’s throat. That is another flaw in my writing. But this has been a long day, and I’ve had a lot to learn.
The water is mostly down by now, at least in the area where I live, but a few low-lying streets are still probably waterlogged. My cheese is finished, and I am already thinking about dinner. But before I exit the vibe of writing, I would like to roll the moral-tortilla up as cleanly as I can so that nothing spills.
What I really learnt from today, and from a lot of other days, is that life is how we choose to view it, and we can choose to view it however we want. Whether that’s getting worked up over waterlogged streets or joking about it, whether that’s spending less or being mindful of where we spend, it all comes down to our points-of-view. Luckily, our point-of-view is something we are able to choose for ourselves.
For now, I choose dinner.