As time goes by, I think the world’s super-spy James Bond would hit it right, the world is not enough. There are now officially more than seven billion people on Earth as of the latest estimates in the rough.
Look around you, it seems that all places in this fragile world are already engaged, occupied and taken. It makes you wonder if there are some forests left in the planet that could be truly considered as virgin. See the malls, the marketplaces, and town plazas among others during a fiesta and we can see that people are everywhere. And they fight on the beaches, they fight on the landing grounds, they fight in the fields and in the streets, they fight in the hills, they never surrender.
Time will come when gold and silver will never amount anymore to anything. And the only stuff of great value would be no other than food, shelter and clothing. We spend a great deal of wasted time in our lifetime just to push and shove and queue in a crowd so maddening. Soon comes the time when men would kill each other no longer for honor or filthy lucre, but only for crumbs and morsel to meet and satisfy a mortal’s primary need and survive their hunger.
Everyone will admit that it’s a dreadful scenario and the most difficult situation. Surely, when that happened, love, honor, pride and compassion will become a forgotten emotion. And anarchy will reign in the streets, as the game will be the survival of the fittest. Or the fiercest. And the mob will rule at its best.
Like what happened during one Friday night in a public terminal where, as the idling last trip bus full-packed with passengers was waiting for its driver, every minute passed it seemed that it was quickly filled to the rafters. People inside were hustling and mixed up like sardines and everybody could hear everybody ‘coz everybody was complaining. Even the entrance door could not be closed as there were still six bodies finely compact therein where one man’s left leg was dangling.
When another hurrying man tried to squeeze in, he was pushed back by a hulking passenger and the former dropped his body to the ground where he smashed his chin. With blood dripping on his shirt, he tried to get up and held again the outside railing of the bus and forced himself to fit his small frame in any small opening between rubbing bodies. But the same angry big man, who dropped his right leg on the ground when the insisting fellow elbowed his back as he climbed again, suddenly punched the hapless thin man and shattered his teeth when he was hit in the face.
He fell to the ground again and rolled over. Yet with his full spirit intact, he went on, he did never retreat nor surrender. He grabbed the door’s hold-rail anew to get in but this time the huge puncher kicked him. And when he slammed his body on earth again, the hulk followed up with a barrage of jabs, hooks and straights and kicks until the man’s face went beyond recognition with cuts and sores so severe.
But my heart bled so much after the dying man replied when he’d been asked why he was so insistent to get in despite everything: “I…am… the driver.”
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