In Kafka's infamous work, The Metamorphosis, Gregor Samsar awakes to find himself gradually transforming into a "monstrous vermin". The novella has since been interpreted in a variety of ways but largely with the common consensus that the metamorphosis Samsar experiences is a metaphor for a confrontation one's loathsome and wretched foulness in the face of existential absurdity.
I see with my mind's eye cast upon myself and I see an image of Samsar. And like Samsar, I'm unable to comprehend the transformation. I can't make sense of all that is happening around me and particularly the despair. With each passing day, a part of me changes, another dies inside.
Even heroes have the right to bleed ... so goes a song I love much. I'm no hero but I've always believed I was strong and indefatigable. I've always found strength from within, trusted my own judgement accompanied by reason and intellect, assured myself of my sense of worth, held firm to my principles, and stood unwavering in the tempests of opposition - even in the face of systems larger than myself. I've taken on Goliaths and escaped, I've brought down Titans and unseated self-proclaimed Kings.
I've been branded an anti-systemic upstart-crow, an anomaly, an enigma, rebel and malcontent radicalist. But I've always held firm to my convictions, to the certitude and value of my difference. But beneath my fearless facade, indomitable confidence (perhaps arrogance) and naive selflessness, I reserve that measure of uncertainty and fear ...
And now my fears are getting the better of me, my uncertainties grow stronger, my doubt becomes empowered with every passing day. With the dawn of a new morning, my faith in the value of the good that I'm doing fades...
Perhaps I am not as strong as I thought I was; perhaps I was not as right as I thought I was.
I never wanted fame nor fortune, I merely wanted to make that little difference in what I was doing - not a difference that the world could witness, merely a difference that would change the lives of those who would listen. I'm no prophet, I'm no messiah - I'm just one who would like to share what little wisdom I possess. But that wisdom and its values contravene the social discourse, the 'grand narrative' of the Singapore dream ... often that wisdom falls on deaf ears ...
I've challenged the discourse, I've fought the system and tried to find a path within, to make that change from within. But I'm beginning to see the futility of my efforts. I'm awakening to the realisation that I may be the one that has been defeated.
And so I'm deciding to turn my back and walk away, recognising my defeat. And as I turn I ask myself if these past few years have been worthwhile, if it has made a difference - just that little difference - to open the eyes of those that have been blinded to the light, those that merely see the shadowplay on the walls of the cave. I used to think I have ... I'm not so sure anymore. And as I turn away, I ask myself what has happened, where has my strength and confidence gone? What is this metamorphosis that I cannot make sense of?
I do not know.
2 comments:
you know you've made a difference in our lives (well, some of us at least).
at times we ask ourselves if it was all worthwhile, and we think that we've given so much, yet gotten back so little.
at these times, we go back to the little we have, and perhaps with that little glimmer of hope that still remains, we realise that indeed, it was worth it.
admittedly, you've shaped my beliefs, thought me to dream and pursue those dreams.
you've taught, not with your words in the classroom, but with your life outside it.
thank you.
a past student.
Thank you...
It's good to know it's not all been wasted...
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