My crazy responsibilities

[dawoco]

Once upon a time there was a nice picturesque village where people lived peacefully. As years passed on and children became adults, a nice little routine of hierarchy was established. Everyone was happy with it, it seemed, but there was one guy that proved to be an exception. He was just not satisfied with what he perceived to be a stuffy old place and he thought that life was flying him past. So he rebelled in the only way he knew how.

 

On a cold winters day he went and stood in the village centre wearing his brightest summer wear. All through the year that followed the villagers discussed what caused him to do so, and what that meant to their daily lives. And so a year went on and another cold day presented itself. It was unexpected by most, but the same guy turned up in the village community centre, this time he was wearing his mothers favourite pearls and nice fluffy coat. Again people were scandalized at how this one person went against anything that they saw as decent. And again he was the talk of the town. And the villagers just didn’t know how to react but by vocally telling him they disapproved. This seemed to work, for the guy was on best behaviour throughout the year. But as soon as winter neared people started getting nervous. Would he finally fit into his place in their society? Would he heed their carefully worded and sometimes blunt warnings? There were secret whispers and people were overtly suspicious of what motivated him to act the way he did.

 

And then, on a snow dusted dawn, when everyone was nice and comfy in their respective beds the village alarms went off. As was pre-agreed, all villagers met in the town square. And in the middle of it, where the fountain that for so many signified their village’s prestige was built hundreds of years ago, stood the solitary figure of the man so many had come to distrust. He was still in his pyjamas and had a determined look upon his face, a defiant look as it were. He stared each and every one of the censorious people that oppressed him, told them “sometimes a person has to do something radical to break a bad habit†and did the unthinkable in the village’s prided fountain. After that everyone shunned him for years and went back to their “normal†daily routines.

 

That is until curiosity took over and they wanted to know what they have done to be disrespected that way. All they ever tried to do was keep their villages organised and whatever they did was for the safety and well being of everyone, including him. Why he tried so hard to break up their loving community.

It was all simple at the end, as they all found out. The man was neither mad (as the elders had suggested) nor on drugs, which was what so many of his peers believed to be true.

 

Instead it was something that never crossed their minds. The man smiled a knowing smile and simply said “I was finding my voiceâ€. When they looked dumbfounded, the man further explained

“For so long everyone was telling me what I had to do and how I was expected to do it, that it soon became difficult to know where my judgement ended and that of others started. Although I knew I could never change the way everyone thought and reasoned in the village, I changed the way they saw me, therefore changing the way they treated me. Thanks to my craziness I could finally own up to my responsibilities, because for the first time in my life nobody was pointing it out for me.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It is sometimes just so frustrating to have a well meaning family. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just be a little bit crazy sometimes, to let off the steam?

Especially with schools and colleges commencing soon,if they haven't already, and of course the never ending cycle of working for some of us.

 

To my fellow students, whatever your rank, good luck with the coming school year, IA...If ur family becomes too willful, u know what to do

[Tuujiye]

loooooooooool..Nice story

 

wareer badanaa iga tag!!!

[nuune]

waaaw, that was nice really, it made my mind quite jaqjaq, i really enjoyed, what a break!

[NGONGE]

Loved your story, dawoco

laakin dhaqaxaantan aad tuurayso talo yaay ku dhice doonaan?

[Qac Qaac]

maba fahmin...

[nuune]

Qacbaro loooooool, maadan fahmin miyaa haha hahaha dawaco abaay af somali oogu soo qor Qacbaro, turjubaan uu u baahanyahay

[Qac Qaac]

boolbaro lool.

[Mutakalim]

To my fellow students, whatever your rank, good luck with the coming school year, IA...If ur family becomes too willful, u know what to do

 

The commencing of yet another scholastic school year is for many people an exciting experience. I do not believe in Luck (a word devoid of meaning) but "good luck" if you do.

 

With Salaams

PK

[Juxa]

sa wr wb,

 

dawoco, nice story, bt as NGONGE pointed out i know yr nicely put sheeko is going somewhere. i know the things u saying are (dulmar) i wonder:confused:

[dawoco]

Juxa, don’t look any further than your person. You have had me oppressed for what has felt like decades (though I am a young duckling), and now that I am making a stand, u want others to blame? Don’t use Ngonge as a culprit.

 

To all others, I am glad u liked the story; it was a true story of my struggles (nothing to do with Hitler’s autobiography).

And Boolbaro, as my Somali isn’t nearly as perfect as yours, I expect you to translate my story. I’m grating you my well sought trust

 

Mutakalam, understanding your ways is becoming somewhat an acquired taste, but you certainly have an intriguing persona. Admittedly, it does take a while to get used to your strong worded opinions

 

The luck I was referring to is that uttered by a well-wisher. Not the sort found in seedy huts and produced by shah men in tropical places with voodoo dolls made out of porcelain.

[silent-sistah]

nice story indeed, thanks sis!