A Man of Kafka
“I wish I hadn’t even thought of conceiving you” Retorted Martin, Trevor’s dad in between culminating anger.
“Get out of my house and never think of coming back, ever!”
These were the last words Trevor could stomach in his ulcer-ridden belly when he stormed into his crib and packed the vital of his belongings. The anger that was carved all over his father’s face was to haunt him for the rest of his life, he thought.
He walked aimlessly feeling dejected as hell not knowing what he was going to take for lunch, leave alone where he was going to sleep tonight. Foreboding loomed and hovered around him and only fate had a clue about what lay ahead of him.
“What did I do to deserve such troubles and a bitter life?” He rhetorically thought loudly, oblivious to being heard by some passersby. His mind was far, far, and caring about other people’s opinions of him was at the recesses of his thoughts. The center was no longer holding! And embarrassment seemed to have left his dictionary as he neared the dusty, busy town of Tamarind.
A flashback of his English teacher reading his composition to his class as a sample of a good composition skimmed through his mind making him smile painfully. It described a successful kid who was so intelligent at the primary and secondary school level and proceeded to the university only for him to indulge in drugs with rich kids who lavishly escorted him six feet underground.
The essay was a crazy revelation of how his life came to be, except for the fact that his story never ended with him being brought home in a coffin, like the unfortunate guy in his essay back in 2010 when he was in class 8.
As he strode, he compared his life to a healthy mango tree that grew healthy, thanks to the farmer’s effort all through the tender ages, and during its first flowering period, it bloomed only to disappoint the already salivating farmer by shedding its flowers abnormally unlike the neighboring mangoes that made produce.
“Will the mango tree flower and produce next season? Will the owner be willing to wait until next season or uproot this tree? These thoughts were busy traversing Trevor's mind when he bumped into an old, wrinkled lady reverting him back to reality.
“These youth of today are unruly and reckless and can’t even focus on where they are going.” Muttered the old lady.
Her face had been battered by life and the walking stick and the leso that probably carried herbs hanging below her armpit bestowed her with elderly power.
“No wonder the world today is deteriorating” Finalized the lady and walked away despite no reply from Trevor.
The simultaneous thoughts and events that had just happened left a big impression on Trevor. As he contemplated the old lady’s words, he deciphered ’loss of focus ’as the major aspect that led to his recent misfortunes. In a way, the smog and clog in his mind were steadily being cleaned from his brain by real-life experiences.
“Subtle! How the world reveals things to us men ″ He wondered as he arrived at the gambling spot, he usually went to chill for the past 3 years since he left high school. The place was filled to the brim and noise was emanating from every corner of the musty room.
Yet, behind all this chaos lay a tinge of order. Gamblers, idlers, and speculators were busy doing their thing. No one noticed Trevor. His problems were none of their business. They roamed all over like zombies in search of cash and not one of them worried about where life was headed.
The ‘negative stoic syndrome’ as he usually termed it, had engulfed everyone inside the particular joint. The syndrome of not having a plan and vision in life is what he saw firsthand in the faces of the gambling community. All of them were living for the sake of living: No purpose.
Empathically placing himself into their shoes, he felt miserable at the fact that he had fallen for the same problem as them. He woke up from the wooden bench and walked towards the betting point. He had spotted his accomplice Tim, who, perhaps from understanding the circumstance he was in, could at least fish out a fifty-shilling note for his lunch.
Trevor’s life, he felt, was miserable and on the brink of extortion. Depending on other unfortunate guys who interacted with good cash seldom had become his norm. Praying that Tim wins so that the chance of him getting the money for lunch increases, he watched. This was the craziest moment of his life. ‘Eating food from borrowed cash’ Damn, he was surviving at the epitome of adversity.
