Friday, July 12, 2019

The Creative Voice & A Nation That Lost Its Plot

Every nation and society will go through deep seated transitions like a seasonal cycle shifting from a pleasant summer into a harsh, prolonged winter. 

This is what has happened to my country: after coming out of 6 decades of a dark winter into spring, the prospect of an early winter looms even before summer can rear its head.

It seems that everyone of us, are silently and alarmingly watching the daily turn of events and news that are often a mockery of our deepest hopes. Will it be a matter of time before we start admitting defeat and share our indignation with the world at large?

(Incidentally, other countries are currently going through even more severe turmoil: The British wringing their hearts out over the divisiveness caused by Brexit in the last three years; and more recently, the Hong Kong street protesters expressing their utter disdain and rejection of their government, a proxy for mainland communist rulers, etc)   

Clearly, the cycle of optimism and pessimism is at the core of every growing nation. The key question is whether we are in permanent decline or going through birth pangs, a period of darkness which will bring us to a brighter era?

At first, a political awakening is full of promise (invigorating the nation with optimism and hope for true change at every level) and then gradually it peters out over the months and years. Like a majestic castle that is going to be built in a desert, the foundations are already complete.

But the planners start bickering about the final design. And there are now even doubts if the building will ever be finished. Skeptics and naysayers have emerged saying, "See, what I told you? our doubts are confirmed: that country is a good-for-nothing and will never rise up from its entangled destiny."

It was not too long ago that a new dawn greeted a nation on the morning of 9th May 2018.

Like the metaphor of the boy looking out the window, his perspective was at first gloomy as he looked below at the slums in his neighborhood. But then, one day an inner voice said to him, look up and gaze at the stars and the galaxy.

Once he changed his viewpoint, his mood completely changed and he decided to look upward every time he stood at his window. Soon enough, he saw a brave, new world and the destiny and vision for his country began to be formed.

But, alas, all that grows from the ground will turn into dust. Even more so, for every political and social construction of man, for every wind of political change.

Is it the system or the people at the forefront of the system? Who and what is it that keeps a country mired in its fate like a strong three-fold cord?

    

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