Iri-descent

Iri-descent

A lethargic frame makes her way down the stairs. A long way down, but nothing would prove long enough to challenge her. Even her bones had survived her for the last eight decades, albeit a couple of sprains in her younger days, days no longer glorious, but remain a blurry memory.

But while she descended this, the onset of rheumatism pointed out to her rather rudely-- even eternity will have an end.

A few gazes fell upon her. Whether it was due to her being a human road block, or wondering if she needed help, she would never know. She observed the soulless bodies trudging forward; they had neither a sense of purpose nor conviction. She missed the days when people would help each other readily -- they were long gone. Introduction of moral education, leadership lessons, whatever the Ministry and schools are doing; one would have thought, or at least hoped, that it would make a difference.

Or maybe, just maybe, displacement has been mistaken for achievement by those Ministry fellows.

Not just them; but society as a whole.

Her slippers were strewn over the stairs, marking her descent down.

A flash of a face, though familiar, yet distant. It was a man, with much resemblance of his younger self, but now with a face that has learnt not to trust. A side-glance to the old lady struggling down the steps, a hesitation on whether she needed help. That instant of giving in to his past self. Then a resolve; hurrying off to his destination, even if he did lose it long ago. Someone else will help her if she needs it, he assured himself. They all did.

A descent not counted successful by many, but at least she made it down.

As she leafed through pages in her memory, she finally recalled. A sudden scene crept into her mind. It was her, about forty odd years ago; in a classroom as an English teacher, analyzing a short piece. She introduced the term “diffused responsibility”. The class she taught was vibrant and cheery. Especially a boy who did not understand how this term could ever exist; residing and thoroughly hypnotized in his utopia.

She was lying in a pool of her own blood.

In this enclosure formed by a mob, all air and light fade, highlighting an onlooker. The dark silhouette of a future once bright.

He had forgotten.