‘They-We’ have lost it

They sit glued to their computers, or laptops as you may prefer, pondering about historical facts. Projecting a combination of words and figures, terming them as forecasts, and they (we) are there too as passengers in a vehicle they call a meeting. Eyes rolling, going dry, mouths open, they yawn, body movements here and there, they are losing balance, legs shaking, others keen on their smuggled-in smartphones, did they get uncomfortable too. 

Oh! And they carried notebooks, masquerading along corridors, “We are going for a meeting”, people would think these are the kind of serious minds the nation desires for. Notebooks and pens on their grips and hands, with no intention of using them. As the so-called ‘crusade’ proceeds they start eating those pens, sucking them to their mouths, am now getting the point why they carried them. Regardless for what reason, they are being used. Yeah. They turn, their hands supporting their heads, gone heavy. 

Scratching their bodies, gazing sideways, their eyes are losing focus, concentrating on anything they fall on. They start chewing non-existent gums, oh! I think it’s their nails. One leans to stretch, others follow like animals in a zoo. The urge to converse is overwhelming, they can’t hold it back. “How long will this meeting last?” a whisper is heard. They are bored. At one point the in-charge stands to write on a white board, call it ‘to sketch’. A good moment to mumble, right? 

Those who carried water, now recall those green tumblers on the floor, there’s no water anymore. What the hell? Are we on a dry spell? The vehicle is still moving though at a staggering pace, moving to unknown destination, the pumps are too many to go unnoticed. They are here in body, but their minds are lingering elsewhere. One can’t help to imagine what they are thinking about; Is it that ugali (s)he left in the kitchen yesterday, is it about shopping now that they have some few coins in their bank accounts, or what is it? Someone please tell me. 

A joke is made, they quickly switch their minds back to the journey, “What did he say? Why are you laughing?” The kind of questions that rock the air. “While you were away sister, in your shopping bag… he, yes that one, said that…” She now smiles uncontrollably as if she were a smiling machine being recharged. They again fall back to the mayhem. Just being there like mannequins in a cloth line. But again, what really informed the decision that they have to board this vehicle? Just to be in, on their seats, even as spectators. Others may wonder.

The clock is still ticking, it’s now past five, oh wait I mean half past five. The in-charge takes a pose, he says with a clichéd tone “2 minutes please” and walks out, others follow. Those they’s are left alone. Let’s now talk about noise, shall we? The whole place turns to a marketplace, they are selling and buying stutters. At least the long awaited break is here, the ideas about how to utilize the relief are too aggressive for containment. 

And who on earth wears white shoes with a black suit? The statistics call for a judgmental say-who’s. Oh! Did I forget that we are back on session? They camouflage like chameleons back to that shell, that meeting mood. It now gets even odder, the whispers take control of the meeting, head and armpit scratching are on the sky rocket. They have befriended their phones. 

They are all here, in full attendance and jam packing the room. Suddenly the journey is cut short, they are now relieved. The next destination will be the kitchen for a cup of tea and bread. They have been busy, in many ways than one. As they walk out, one will pave way for them, thinking that they have made a great impact where they were. But if only (s)he knew, if only.