Your Burtons From Your Nolans


Reboots wipe memories down, start things afresh, freeing one to build things up the way he or she would like, unfettered by the landscape of the past. To leave the warts out and wipes kisses off the brow. To forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors. Ten years since this jejune diet rebooted, a fine artefactual mist obscures what I set out to say. Prescient most days, but some mornings, I squint to even recall what I set out to say.


Ten years, mourning the death of poetry, of mother and child, of civility and integrity in public life, clinging on to beliefs that the world scoffs at. Ten years of unexplained context to what one reads. Worsened by adjunct imagery.


Through it all, lessons. Lessons that appear plain on a casual glance or when seen from afar. Like 100-character sentences with single subject and predicate. Or brand endorsements that fit into a college literature curriculum. Or how not to burden the average reader with the odious task of thinking things through. And how all paths should ideally lead to a #30Under30 listing.

At sundown, all head homewards. Everything ends, stripping down, unclenching.  Between start up and shut down, reboots cross the tees, line the dates. Haven't we all been more concerned with where we could find a human skull than with whether what we were doing was art? Haven't we all looked into the dark and known that it did not matter, did not make a damn of a difference to the juggernaut?


Yet, each morning, we nudge matter out the corners of our eyes and lips, put on the face for the day and step out. Each daybreak a rebirth, a reboot. Hope on Mondays, Courage on Wednesdays, Faith on Fridays. We do it because we want to believe that in some minuscule way, our lives, our experiences, our opinions matter, that our children and their children will want to know why we did what we did, even if what we did did not really save the world.

To those who have been here from the beginning, cheers!! To those who joined midway, hang on, the best is yet to come. To those who found this blog through this post, I am so sorry, I am less of a dimwit on most other days. To those who will read this post in the future, I promise to leave pointers every now and then.

To all of us, happy new year. May our reboots widen the narrow chinks of our cavern.

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