I’s Wide Shut
There are mornings I wake in a “Groundhog Day” grip. The clock blithely reads 4:45am, the parking lot spot: 2278; familiar faces greet me as I pass them on the side streets of the city. I count how many times I’ve seen each and marvel as the numbers reach 5, 10… 15.
I wonder if they find my regular presence in their world at all unusual. In a place of over 8 million souls, it’s remarkable to view the same ones so consistently. It draws me to a question: are these moments a lucid dream of my sole creation or do I reprise a recurring role in theirs? Is the notion of free choice a sadistic joke or something real? With each morning eerily similar to its predecessor, I do not pose these questions lightly. I fear the answer.
As acts of defiance, I walk different paths to change the view. I steal moments to read new periodicals, smell new smells: Halal mixed with urine and steamed subway ventings. To break monotony’s hold, I change travel timings: an earlier train in and a later train out. I am iced coolly and a kid for today.
.
We choose the cage of our own desires and perhaps I am opening my eyes. Perhaps others are doing this in their own way as well. Perhaps I stand changed. Perhaps an end is in sight and the latest challenge will present. Perhaps everything will work out in the richness of time. And perhaps, just perhaps, as I breathe deep, slow my pulse to mentally mark the moment, this late evening in the city is warm and calm just for me.