As I walk about the city or move about in cabs or cars that belong to other people, I look around as one does with a sort of imagination that this life is a film we are watching in a theatre. There is a moment of positive detachment. The other day, the same thing happened, and then, the city whispered a secret in my ear, and for a second, I thought I heard the word “excitement”, but then, I could not be too sure. There were too many noises from all around for me to have been sure of it. But if I were to gamble, I’d say it was something to do with excitement, and I reckon the city was telling me to loosen up a little.
The city has grown as I have, and I think our intertwined stories, both of which are written with significant gaps in important events, left out like some sort of mystery, have the same moral: things change, and our best bet is to be excited for most of them. The rest happen as they do, but most things are worth being excited about.
This is the secret the streets whisper into my ear now and then. To be excited about things, in general. Why are you stoked about something as silly as this? They ask me. Why shouldn’t I be? There is so much here—a whole life built year by year. Just the other day, we were out for drinks. As we descended and exited the building, I ran into the baristas at my favourite cafe, who were on their way upstairs. We met with a smile and a camaraderie I do not have with the oldest of my friends. About an hour later, I met another face standing behind the counter at another cafe I frequent. These are little events, but they are essential.
Everyone needs roots, they say, but they fail to mention that if the tree is alive, and if it is thriving, or perhaps even growing in a measly manner, the roots keep growing too. And that is what the city reminded me of the other day. But I couldn’t be too sure, I swear. The music was loud, and we humans tend to tell ourselves things we wish to say to ourselves through proxy.
We are always looking for someone else to tell us what we want to tell ourselves.