An imminent lightning strike, the roar of thunder and plumes of cannabis smoke, amidst a power cut and candlelight, characterized and summed up Mr. Sins’ day. A life of abject struggle awaited him, no doubt helped in part due to a series of bad decisions that had culminated in financial fraud, two lawsuits, a murder charge and a cockroach, that had flown directly towards his face during today’s lunch. A hate, bordering boiling metal and oil, threatened to overwhelm him, and he had, crushing the cockroach again and again and again, under his shoes, imagining it was a human being’s body parts being torn apart. A sudden flash of mutilated bodies piled up in front of his eyes.
He had never been like this.
For as long as he could remember, he had been a good man, seeking only to please others with his good work, confining himself to work for long hours on end, often finding enlightenment during moments of reading and immersing himself into multiple disciplines at a time. The fact that others didn’t share in his habit, irked him to some extent. He could sense the disconnect. It had always been there, for as long as he could remember. The only time when such a sense of disconnect hadn’t bothered him, had been during his under-graduation days, where cannabis, football and hanging out with individuals from multiple engineering disciplines, brought together not only a sense of camaraderie, but also a shared passion for engineering. They believed in the imminent convergence of the engineering, physical sciences, computation, and life sciences domains. It was crystal clear to them, staring at them right in front of their faces.
Mr. Sins’ graduation was a low-key affair. Something he didn’t prefer to dwell on because there was nothing to dwell on. All he could remember was that, he had been as high as a kite, his disheveled hair sticking out of his head at all kinds of angles, smiling vaguely at familiar faces, trying to blend in with the crowd and pose awkwardly for a few pictures. Thinking about the scene now, made him cringe with distaste and a general lack of empathy for his former self. He realized, all former selves were to be looked at in pity, for no amount of introspection and thought could possibly compensate for abject stupidity, carelessness and a lack of maturity.
Mr. Sins went home after graduation.
He was sober for the next six months.
He had managed to make inroads into the football club that represented his city in the national league, by citing the importance of a content strategy to the person who handled media relations. The person had looked at him with glazed eyes, as if trying his best to look disinterested, and Mr. Sins wondered if his monologue served to threaten him in some manner. As far as he was concerned, a human being ought to be receptive to new information all the time, in order to anticipate if the new information made economic sense or not, personally or professionally. Yet, what Mr. Sins found, was…wariness, a reluctance to acknowledge that Mr. Sins was talking sense. It was an incident he would see repeated over and over again in the next few years.
For sometime, he had wondered if it was all playing out inside his head. But, he learnt his lesson again over the next year. For, all his colleagues exhibited a sense of being threatened, simply because they were ill-informed about the multiple narratives playing out in the world, not just with respect to their professions, but also from a personal point of view.