The call

Everyone had a call. The call of the wild. The call of other people. The call to write. The call to help. The call for a partner.

As everyone set out of their sheltered space, they sent out that call or followed a call. Each one found their call in the least likely places, the strangest places, in the remotest places, or, after searching for so long, in the places closest to home.

Then one day, the calls stopped. The front door simply did not open. An insidious and invisible banner everywhere said 'Not allowed' and that could be in or out of the front door. Now, the call is embedded in every psyche as they yearn for something outside that front door: The call.

It took another form, as if always it was there but so many people just hid under a ton of commutes, competitions, and silly errands that have become a 'must' or some spoiled soul somewhere will not have their daily dosage of something. Now, the call is out of breath.

The call remains human. As people set out in life, they ask the same question: 'What now?" Some say they will discover the world which has been discovered a thousand times over. Some believe they will find the miracle cure. Some think that the next bestseller will be produced by their hand. And some fantasize that that absent crush will one day be part of their daily lives. Some other people's call is that they will change the world.

But the call has been buried under a collective call. All can now do the same, act the same, deliver the same becuase the one common feature for the call is technology. Now, calls can travel faster than a speeding bullet. And in a minute there is a celebration or chaos.

As people went into their sheltered spaces, now considered vaults, they think what is their call. Did they ever send it out there? Has anyone ever received it? Did those who received it respond? Suddenly, the most distant became the closest because the governing factor is fear.

The call that everyone yearns for is the other. Calls get interrupted by mythology. These people are harder than those people. These people are lazier than those people. These people get it more than those people. Then when the time came for everyone to get locked up, none of these people are better than those people. They're just: People.

Where is the call that so many have learned when they were young? Namely, that they are not alone. Namely, that they have a neighbour and they have to be neighbourly to them. And their neighbours have neighbours and they need to be neighbourly to them And as these times have led to a chain reaction, so should have this lesson of childhood done.

Except some authorative entity interrupts the calls, and sends onmiscient messages that they are the grand protector, and little else matters after that. Now comes the time where every little thing else but that actually matters. What matters the most is the call. The call to stay alive. The call to thrive. The call, for the first time in everyone's conscious diary of history, ALL matter.

Differentiation matters little. The poor are poor. The helpless are helpless. The diseased are diseased. Everyone's call now is the same. Is it a miracle? Or has it been there all along, and we have seen tyrants, guised as saviours, ravage cities for domination and wealth and all we could do was to cry out the call? As we have seen obscenity masquersde as humility, tear a hole in humanity's wall, just to raise the call and see those worldly fall?

It's always been there. In our souls. In our humanity. The call was interrupted. Maybe through silence in our homes, we are closer now to fulfilling the call.