Dami’s Lens: Life Cycle
It begins with a love affair, or at least some semblance of it. A man in the full regalia of his masculinities suddenly finds attractive comfort in feminine bosom. Everyone believes she will just be another pawn in his conquest. He proves them wrong and goes shopping. On his return, he lands on one knee to present a treasured find to his heartthrob. A few â€œaaawwwsâ€ and a couple of blushes are then followed by a quick affirmation of his interest. They inform family and friends, who soon replace their initial scepticism with happiness, drowning them in well-wishes. A date is chosen. A feast is born.
He loves her much. She loves him more. He is a hard worker who loves his job also. Maybe itâ€™s not the job he loves, but his ability to afford the many bills of matrimony through it. The art of looking good is her practise. Sustaining the art is his duty. The making of the home is her performance. Keeping up the performance is his responsibility. As a reward for his diligence, he is never denied the fillings of the belly or the cravings of the night. Her funny sickness soon starts with a vomit. Then the result written in pulp reveals their greatest expectation. A due-date is announced. A child is born.
He is an intertwined portrait of his parents. She weans him well and accelerates his emasculation. His speedy growth is accompanied with the rapid loss of two of his four legs. He demonstrates remarkable intelligence and is quickly conscripted. Schooled in the rudimentary art of manipulating alphabets and numbers, he becomes a primary master. They are both proud of his emergence as best-in-class, and splash a chunk of their savings on his next level. The man works harder to cater for the burgeoning family needs. His son studies diligently to justify the spending, breezing through the advanced manipulation of words & numbers, and an introductory understanding of complex sciences. Six years later, he is certified a master yet again. He has more siblings now. His parents have to work even harder.
The ivory tower is an automatic calling. It is his societyâ€™s way of sieving out the best from the rest. Fortunately, he emerges one of the lucky few after 60months of gruelling and often irrelevant cerebral exercise. He escapes the vulnerabilities of pestilence and the raging of infidels, when he is catapulted to the desert in service of fatherland. His father believed the trainings of such service would prove invaluable. He could be right but we may never know. Upon completion of his service, he must prove that his intelligence is globally acceptable, and is exported to better-structured colonial climes. He proves his versatility and conquers their walls. On his return back home, a proud father throws a small party.
As is â€œcustomaryâ€, he begins the search – for a good and rewarding life. The seven-figure paying multinational is impressed by his academic conquest and exceptional skills. They make him an offer that left him ecstatic. Everyone is happy. His aging dad feels relieved. Now he can soften the pedal of his hardworking wheel because his efforts have finally paid off. His mom is expectant. Her tender back would soon feel the warmth of child again. His siblings are glad. Their pockets should experience remarkable increase of a brotherly fold.
The paths of their iris cross for the first time, followed by repeated meetings in a short time span. Finally, with a smile, they both concede to let their gaze rest on one another, Heâ€™s in love. And so is she!
Even with all our individual variations, what is the point of it all if life is nothing but a cycle?