• Rahul Mahesh



Recently I saw the word "languish" making rounds in social media. A lot of posts regarding the meaning of the word and its relatability with people as a result of the pandemic. It is indeed hilarious that it took a pandemic for some to learn this word and its true meaning or so I found. As the mornings get gloomier in this overly romanticised monsoon, I find that I "languish" more than I would. It is not uncommon that the weather in many ways affect our moods yet I never paid much heed.

I bet I am not alone in thinking that there is a feeling of pointlessness in the things that I see around me. A sense of debilitating dissatisfaction with the world and the constant desire for change and movement. The impending doom of a future and its uncertainties have clearly not helped us wade through this storm. Most of us are unemployed and miserable and the rest are employed and largely discontent, the pure storm of misery engulfs the socio-cultural fabric of the world. I find myself on social media more often just mindlessly scrolling through scores of images of a "better life" or at least the illusion of it. Nevertheless, the impact is just the same.

Never more have we, as a populous, had the time to focus on our fallacies and imperfections than ever before. The scars on your back, the ridges on your face, your bald spots, the greying strands of hair and the inevitable bags under your eyes. For all the time we do have, we do look like we could use a break! Distractions are not distracting enough and joy is simply fleeting and all we do is dwell in the unhappiness of it all. Sometimes I just get aggravated with COVID-19 talk and chuck my phone away. Now with the possibility of another impending wave, I do not know if we have it in us to go through this storm. What options have we had in the first place?

This lack of "options" and flexibility that we once boasted seem to have escaped us altogether. We have gotten older by manifolds sitting on our asses and watching the world go by. I worry about the state of people post COVID. I worry that we have in many ways yielded to the pointlessness of it all, I may be alone in this thought but I do deeply feel that way. The young ones coming through having seen instability from their governments and the system, the healthcare workers seeing death and the lack of infrastructure wreck havoc on them and the world around them. I wonder if we have lost the ability to hope? I wonder if we could count on hope anymore. I wonder if we still believe that we, as a people, still find the world promising enough to get by.

I have never been confident of systems but somehow I have been confident about people. The idea that somehow humanity would in some sense come to terms with their surroundings and build ahead and adapt. This time the destruction seem more visceral and the loss more personable than it ever has. I see friends of mine with a gloomy look in their eyes and a hollowness in the conversations, the frivolity that seems more forced than engaging. I wonder if we shall, as a people, learn to hope again. Will we still have it within us to go on? Not because we do not have an alternative but because we choose to hope, dream and believe. I hope we do not lose ourselves more than we already have. For once lost, humanity shall be nothing but mechanistic than ever before. A world devoid of the essence to be human, a factory for life-building and a system of sustenance and nevermore for life itself.

I hope the world learns to dream again.


Featured Image: https://in.pinterest.com/pin/801711171162749278/

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