Disclaimer: This is a work of Introspection. Characters and events are the products of the author’s Rumination. Resemblances to actual people, (living or dead,) or actual events might be coincidental. (Author Notes at the end.)
Thirty_One.mp3
My dear A.
I’m recording this as I'm waiting for the year’s end. It’s half an hour or so before the calendar changes. I have a lot to say, but I can’t find words for them. So I’ll just say whatever is on my mind.
How is it like for you now? You’re still having a challenge every day, I assume. Me too, and so is everyone.
Life is hard.
I know.
So, hang in there. You might think I don’t need to tell you that, but you have to hear it from someone.
Life is hard so hang in there.
What are your goals? Last time you said you never had one. Maybe it’s okay to not have goals, but you have to look at reality or you’ll stay, forever, depressed.
Dear A.
Do you remember when you thought life was all about joy? That hardships were for the adults? You never wanted to be an adult, I know. But I also know that you arrogantly thought if you happened to become an adult you’ll magically be the best of them.
You arrogantly believed you were special.
Your arrogance. Did you do anything about it?
Are you smiling after hearing this? Or are you depressed? I wish I can see your face so I can better tell you what's next, I don’t know how you’ll react.
As for me, I would’ve been depressed to hear that.
I’d be furious because someone, for a moment, brought me back to the reality I hated.
So, if that’s how you felt when I called you arrogant, my dear A., I understand.
I wish I didn’t lose my ability to sugarcoat reality, but maybe, somewhere in the deep, I’m glad I did.
Do you remember the time you hated adults?
They think they know everything, yet they’re ignorant. Arrogant. They’re always busy. You see them waste a lot of time on things they don’t want to do. They preach good acts and never do them. They renounce evil but practice it in your face. They’re unremorseful liars! All of them!
Now you’re an adult and you’re all these things.
Do you hate yourself my dear A.?
I guess your answer would be “yes,” but I don’t hate you for it.
You know, humans are paradoxes.
You know that.
For every evil you do, my dear A. I can list one or two good you bring to the world.
There’s light behind every shadow, and as far as I can tell, you’re light is bright.
Now, you can cry.
It’s okay to cry.
I know you wanted to hear these words.
Now, let me tell you something you don’t want to hear: You’re a man. A.
…So, Man the $%@# Up!
Do you remember those who worked yet still found time for their families. Those who suppressed their desires. Those men who pray in the mosques but never bragged about being better than those who don’t. You respected them, yet you never wanted to be like them.
It’s almost as if you don’t want to respect yourself.
You’re weak.
But you’re stronger than you think you are.
So… Look up. Man up! Leave your phone for a moment.
You’ll respect yourself more after you do.
Do you remember when a schoolmate of yours died at 17? What if that was you? What you were doing at 17? You felt some dread because you looked back at your life and felt it was filled with nothing.
If that was you, there would've left the world without any impact. Or so you thought.
You were glad he wasn’t your friend, because maybe you wouldn’t be able to handle it.
Then again, my dear A., didn’t you handle the deaths in your life sufficiently well? Like the first death of someone close to you. When your uncle died.
You’d say you didn’t feel anything at the time.
That you’d never had enough mental capabilities to process that he died.
You saw all of your siblings and cousins cry. Their parents and the neighbors too. Your parents were as broken as you never saw them.
Yet you moved from one room to another. Back and forth from your uncle's house to the site of the funeral. Emotionless.
You might’ve hated yourself for it.
How can you not be sad as the rest of them?
If that’s what you thought, you’re wrong! You were an anchor for them that day.
Someone was there, who kept his emotions in check. At least from their perspective, you were that person.
You still consoled your cousins. You went with them to pray. You might’ve even helped with the burial. Don’t you remember?
You didn’t run away that time. At least, that one time, you’ve been there for everyone.
You’re weak. That’s true.
But you’re truly stronger than you think you are.
Do you remember when you holed yourself inside the house? Fearing what you might do to people? Or maybe that was an excuse.
You feared what people might do to you.
You’re a coward!
You’ll admit your cowardliness, but you secretly wish you were brave, don’t you A.?
Do something about it, then.
Move today, one step, and do something you never did before.
Cut off this recording and message one of your old friends or something. I know you never take the initiative in reconnecting with anyone. Do it for one, right now!
Then come back to listen to the rest.
I’m far away from being finished here.
Welcome back, dear A.
What did your friend say?
Or maybe you contacted your family?
Most likely you’re gonna tell me that you kept the recording going, and listened passively as you laughed in self-deprecation. If so, keep listening, Coward!
Passivity seems to me the running theme of your life.
When did you ever do something for yourself? You can’t remember, do you?
Let me tell you then. Do you remember when you worked hard to make enough money to replace your Computer? Or when you did everyone’s share of the house chores without being asked?
Not to mention all the pieces of art you make.
I’m always amazed when I enter your room and don’t know where to put my foot. Everything there is too valuable to defile.
You tell me it makes your parents angry that you don’t organize your stuff, but I know you enough to tell. The mess I saw is perfectly organized in your artistic mind.
To prove it, how many times have I asked about one of your projects? You always knew exactly which part of the mess it laid under.
You forget too many of your good traits. That’s not good for you. A.
What if you can’t follow some self-improvement book that tells you where to keep your stuff?
What if you can’t organize your schedule correctly?
What if you can’t maintain one social conversation in the streets?
That doesn’t take any of your good traits, and I hope you can remember that.
So, don't say "I'm a bad person" ever again.
Playing the victim never did you good, and you know it.
Now dear A. let me tell you about myself…
A lot of things happened in the past year. A lot of reasons compelled me to make this last recording of the year for you.
I learned many things about every field of my interest. The internet is an underutilized sea of knowledge, and with knowledge, I polished every skill I have.
I helped and got help from many people. We’re all grateful for each other.
That was a good year. A great year, even.
Yet, I never solved any of my core problems. To the society outside my house, I’m still a child in the body of a man. Reckless and delusional. Even if I sounded wise to you somehow.
I like to assume that you solved yours? Or maybe you’re still the passive idiot I described earlier.
So, I won't try to sound smart by using any of the hundred difficult words I learned this year. Instead, I wanted to tell you how I really feel about you. About myself. My dear A.
I recorded this speech from my heart, without a script. I might’ve said some embarrassing things, but that’s the point.
I won’t listen to this before sending it to you…
And next year… Oh, it already started. It's this year now.
I’ll be Thirty-one this year.
I’m excited about the things I will learn at thirty-one. I’m also afraid of the challenges I’ll have to face to acquire the skills I need to learn them.
I am a coward too.
Yet, what I said to you earlier, is what I tell myself right now. I won’t play the victim. I am stronger than I think.
I’ll look at reality for more one moment than yesterday. A simple extra moment might make all the difference.
At the same time, I’ll put my faith in the plan of God and let the streams of life take me away sometimes. Only sometimes.
So, next time we meet, my beloved A., show me something different.
–- Yourself From 2022.
The End
A. Notes
Thanks for reading this Fictional Transcript. I wanted to do something before the start of 2023, and I felt something along the line of a fictional new year resolution would be a great final post.
Thirty_One.mp3 is both a critical look at someone's life and a forgiving one for his mistakes.
The story above is based on my life, but with fictional elements thrown in, because a life that has only one path is boring, after all. I tried to keep a balance between the critical voice and the forgiving one, if you felt that balance, I'll mark this story a success!
While writing this, I thought of it being a sound-only movie. Where you see a vinyl disk moving and you can hear the room noise because of A.'s terrible microphone recording. I wonder if his family was making noise in the other room. If it was me, I know I would have to close the door and tell them to keep it down before recording.
Since the story is already introspective, I want to leave it here for all of you without explaining further. What did you think of it? What are your thoughts about A.? Assuming you're not a child reading this: How did you feel when people called you an adult for the first time?
- This story is also on Read.cash.
- The cover of this series is created by me using Canva.
 | The short story "Thirty_One.mp3" by @ahmadmanga is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 |
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