People
say, albeit I refuse to believe, that they can’t even stand the thought of living
without a specific someONE. But what amazes me is to see those people who fail
to think about moving on with their lives without a specific someTHING. Of
course I refuse to believe that too. How can people just get so sentimentally
attached to their belongings that they don’t even want to consider their lives
without those things. Man is a selfish piece of flesh, isn’t he? When he says that he can’t live without something,
even that includes his personal interest, his selfishness and wanting to have
his belongings remain with him, forever.
Lying
down comfortably, I was flipping through the TV channels
when I heard someone coming down the stairs. Someone plunged inside the room,
taking in long teary gasps. Before I could manage to disturb my comfy position
(not that I was planning to do that) and see who it was, the figure stood
before me like a pillar with a cracking yet loud voice. “Have you *gasp* seen
my hair straightener’s *gasp* adapter?”
Alright
now, mind if I demonstrate what I saw before me?
My
sister, of course my elder sister since I’m the youngest duck of my family, was
standing before me. Her damp hair, since she had washed it just a few minutes
before, was covered in a towel and she was looking down at me with her eyes
that were glistening with tears and had gone all red with severe crying (I bet
a blurry image of me was what her vision could make out) and her face was all –
ALL as in ALL! – soaked in tears. In one hand, she was holding her hair
straightener with its plug’s pins aiming toward me, and the other hand kept
cleaning her tears from the soaking face of hers which, quite frankly, was of
no use since as soon as she would clean a dribble of tear from her cheek two
more would pour down giving the effect of a small lake finding its way down
through the path of her cheeks.
Ok
yeah so I looked at her and I did this great effort to stifle my laugh after seeing
that ‘situation’ in front of me. So I held back this deep desire to laugh like
a mentally impaired and retorted to her in as normal way as I could help out.
My response was simple and clear. “No!” I said with a shrug and no sooner had I
spoken that one rusty word than another fresh stream of tears came down and
washed her face. She cried. I laughed. This
time my reaction was spontaneous and I couldn't help it. I stifled my laugh
into a smile grin though and asked her what was with all that crying.
She sat down before me and broke down into yet another sea of tears and gasps and
sniffles and started whimpering her worry to me which sounded nothing more than
gibberish to me. After a while I finally figured out what her impossible-to-decipher teary voice told me. Apparently her straightener's adapter - and well this straightener’s
plug has those alien pins that go in
none of the sockets in our house so the plug was capped with an adapter because
the adapter’s plug can go easily inside the sockets - had gone missing and she
couldn’t search for it ANYWHERE (according to her) and that of course meant
that the piece of electronic equipment she was holding in her hand was totally useless
without it so when her search for that adapter failed completely, she started
to cry.
“Why
are you crying this way?” I had to ask. “Stop crying alright? It must be here
somewhere. It’s somewhere inside the house. Chill.” But that didn’t help a
speck in controlling her tears and she just looked around the room in such
helpless way that I couldn’t help but start working my mind to help her in any
possible way that could just rub that look off her face. Apparently, the help
didn’t involve just the usage of my brains. I had to disturb my comfort-ness
and get to my feet. I told her to check out this other adapter and see if
the straightener’s plug goes in it. But, like a stubborn brat, she refused to
get up. It seemed to me like the end of the world for her. I reckoned as if she
had accepted the defeat and was waiting for the misery to befall totally and
completely and absolutely on her. She just did not get up. For a moment, I felt
like ok it’s not my problem that you just cannot seem to find that freaking
adapter and now totally surrendering to make yourself look miserable more than
a starving 2 year old gypsy kid. But something about that wet, teary wrecked
face and the inevitable reason of me being a human being with emotions and a
sense of nobility that couldn’t bear to see her miserable face and listen her
shaky long gasps without budging myself to do anything, just anything to stop
making her feel this way, made me stand up and search for an adapter, that
could fit in that straightener’s alien plug. Frankly it just took me less than
a minute to find it and give it to her and ask her to see if that would work.
For a moment, her gasps stopped. THANKFULLY. And to my utter satisfaction and
her ultimate survival, it WORKED. She stopped crying. I threw upon her that
condescending look. For a minute, it occurred to me that she felt a little
stupid for that little performance of misery she gave not very long ago. Out of
the guilt, she even refused to show that feeling of ecstasy that she was surly
having, to appear on her visage. But I didn’t mind that. I was contented to see
that her wrecked looks had actually vanished. Getting back to going through the
ever boring session of flipping through the channels, I picked up the remote control once again. She silently went back upstairs with the new adapter and
her straightener, and left me wondering about my firm belief on defying the
overrated statement that says “I cannot live without *insert whatever that
could be*.”
I am
now starting to have second thoughts.
