I was coming back to our apartment complex with my family after some shopping and approached the lift just in time as the door slid open in front of us. As we walked into the lobby and entered the lift, we saw a notice on the wall put up by the property owner. It cautioned tenants against opening their doors to strangers as there were reports of some gunmen moving around posing to be representing the electricity distribution company, offering to change the conventional lamps free of cost with energy-efficient ones. Once they were let in, they would rob the tenant at gunpoint.
That sounded kind of improbable, yet I made a mention of this to my family. My daughter found this piece of advice quite unnecessary and immediately declared that she never opens the apartment door to anyone at all when she is alone at home. My wife declared that the only terrorist that she opens the door to was me. So, that was that. These two people ostensibly didn’t need any safety and security advice. One just wouldn’t let in anyone at all, and another was apparently already living with a terrorist.
Being a weekend, later that day my family retired for a siesta after a sumptuous lunch. Thinking it would be a good idea to catch up on some current affairs, I switched on the TV. I surfed through the channels and found the news anchor talking about global warming. This led to a discussion with an environmental expert on how sea ice is a critical component of our planet given its influence on climate and wildlife. He was elaborating on how the indigenous people who live in the Arctic were innocent victims of the mindless ravages caused by modern civilisation.
I must have caught my forty winks as I usually do while watching TV, when I heard the doorbell ring. I dragged my feet towards the door, and peered through the peep hole and found a young boy in a fancy white fluffy dress waiting seemingly anxiously for me to open the door. Wondering what the boy wanted, I opened the door.
Before I knew it, a family of four, all dressed in similar outfits, were inside my house. With ice-cold expressions, they pushed their way into the kitchen.
While trying to shake the blur off my sleepy head, I wondered whether it was food they were looking for, while they jerked open the refrigerator. All they seemed to be interested in were the ice cubes in the freezer compartment and the packet of ice cubes that was left back from the previous weekend’s party.
Quite unsure of what was happening, I confronted those icy eyes and could not match the stare. I instinctively lowered my eyes, but when I looked again I realised that those eyes were glazed with tears, and it was anguish that I had mistaken for aggression.
The leader of the group proclaimed, as if explaining the intrusion, that their homes were melting due to modern civilisation’s irrational outlook towards global warming. And that now they were compelled to go on a mission to collect as much ice as they could. And all they wanted was ice! How silly and absurd could that be, I murmured inaudibly. As if in answer, he explained that the relevance of this action was to address the apparent passivity that encompassed the multitude of the general population the world over, who stopped and took notice at even axiomatic truths and certainties only when radically interrupted from their seemingly busy lives.
This was no hardliner committed to some deep-seated ideology with an expletives-laden narrative. The concise and undeviating message was directly simple and compelling.
People tend to do all kinds of unusual things when they feel that injustice and mindless actions leave them with no chance to improve their lives. I could totally empathise with them, while they disappeared as abruptly as they had appeared, but not before I received a traditional Eskimo kiss.
I abruptly woke up to the sound of the TV, sheepishly realising that I had been sleeping for quite a while. I immediately recognised the Beatles song by George Harrison where the lyrics seemed to ring true to the surreal moments I spent with my imaginary visitors:
I look at the world, and I notice it’s turning, while my guitar gently weeps, with every mistake, we must surely be learning, still my guitar gently weeps….
