Life is a battlefield. Every day we literally dodge bullets, hide from enemies, cross borders, enter hostile territories, lie waiting tense, alert and on our toes. We take on each day knowing that we have a long day ahead, a fight to finish off well. It may not necessarily be battles with guns and tanks, it could be short swift jabs with our hands, legs and pretty much anything we can get. We wear an armour of indifference and insolence most often and cowardice and fear at times.
We hide from friends whom we ditched last minute or have something to hide from instead of confronting them. We keep our guards on and put on our most defensive stance at work, we gear up for the commute battle ahead, we strategise, make plans and plot lines that will tear people apart or join them forever, or teach someone a good lesson. And every night we pray and hope that we live to see another day.
Since when did living become so difficult? Why does every day have to be this drudge to bear? We protect what is ours with a fierceness that is terrifying and we pursue brilliance, money, power with unrelenting desire. What happened to taking each day as it came? I think it’s our need to be better than the rest, to prove ourselves better contenders for whatever race we’re participating at the moment—mom of the year, best friend ever, superstar at work, business whiz kid of the century, brightest mind of the millennia, breakthrough artist/scientist, saviour of mankind.
The going is never easy, but we are prepared to do battle, we always have been. Ever since we were kids, we knew that we had to be strong and not let others get ahead. We may not have been the typical bullies but we were all determined to do better than our friends, even our best friends. And as adults, the battles just got fiercer and dirtier. We have been taught to survive, to be street-smart and tough.
That’s just one half of the story. We have also been told to watch out for the ones who are not so tough, the ones who get walked over on, to be caring of people, to share and respect and love and do good deeds and more. And that’s where the problem lies. How do we maintain balance between peace and war? Our natural instincts move towards the survival of the fittest or that’s how Darwin would like us to believe. So we try to be nice and befriend people and curb our ruthlessness. It’s a difficult thing to keep doing, it’s like saying, “I’m-sorry-to-beat-you-to-the-taxi-even-if-you-were-here-first-but-I-need-to-get-to-work-on-time-and-to-hell-with-you-actually!”
It’s funny that we try so hard to be nice and all in situations when we just want to rip out someone’s head. I guess that’s the price you pay for being a part of civilized society. We strive to maintain some kind of armistice, a protocol of good behaviour even in the fighting ring. And just like the soldiers of the Western Front during Christmas 1914, we work out an unwritten understanding to respect boundaries and extend the hand of goodwill, peace, love and cheer. Or at least we try to more often than not.
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