Rantglass - because that's how things are.


Feeling numb, not even caring to start.

Feeling numb, not even caring to start.

It has not even been half a year since the theft of our two-year-old Proton Waja, from right in front of our house. It gets kind of frustrating to know that you are not living in a safe neighbourhood, where the blue skies are, birds chirp merrily, and everybody else knows everybody else – rather, it now feels like you have been living under the black clouds all this while, never knowing when lightning will strike, and where dark, evil creatures prowl in the darkness.

How would you feel, if someone climbs over the fence of your house, walk across the garden, balancing with a pole long enough to steal your shoes? Would you chide yourself for leaving it in the porch? Heck, it is within the house compound. It is not like leaving the shoes at the middle of a busy road, where everyone can see it and direct their attention to it.

Sometimes you are confronted with the fact that someone has indeed, trespassed and left their footsteps within your house compound. That, is actually a scary thought. Loitering around at night, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right time to strike. Appearing triumphant due to the absence of a guard dog, they resorted to doing whatever it takes, to get away with someone else’s property.

I have this bad habit of being too sentimental at times – even to normal things and objects. I can hardly throw my possessions away – yet my mother seems to be nonchalant about it all and loves to clean up the house, magically tossing away objects of rare use – although it does not belong to her.

But we are not talking about sentimental values in general. I love my old pair of Nike shoes, which I got from a warehouse sale almost six years ago. It has been with me to various places in the country, got on airplanes to thousands of miles away, attended miscellaneous gatherings. But the thought of it being worn by someone else now is just plain disgusting.

My father has not taken the episode as seriously as I did. He bought a new pair of Hush Puppies for himself today. I was throwing a mild tantrum on why did thieves have to strike on that particular night, why did they have to pick our house, why my Nike shoes, why us. They tried to get away with my other pair of cheaper sneakers too, but apparently it was of a smaller size, and they left one of it in the garden – and the other still on the shoe rack. I would have ended up attending classes with my old pair of sandals or formal black boots should they got away with it as well.

Still, it is just plain sickening to know that I am now wearing the same pair of shoes that has already been tried on by a thief, who apparently could have happily done the same in a shoe shop. Except that he does not need to fork out any money, and does not feel any remorse or guilt with depriving others of their property. Until today, I still do not understand why do humans choose to do evil, although they plainly know that it is wrong.

Evidently, my beautiful Nike shoes have disappeared, it seems, forever. And I will never, ever, see them again. Just like how we will never see our Proton Waja again. A car, and a pair of shoes. Probably nothing, but it just drives you up the wall knowing that someone else is now using them. Without your permission. And not returning it back to you at all.

On air now: Sit Down, Stand Up, Radiohead

Details of this entry.Monday, August 11, 2003, filed under Blogger Archives.
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