Same Same But Different

 Growing up is a lot like a box of chocolates, the most sensible people to partake in the treats inside are often a group without senior citizens and children. Not that they shouldn't, but just that they have the liberty to not be as meticulous with it. But the one mind-boggling truth about growing up, one that shook my world even though it seems mundane to me now, is that one thing can have more than one uses. I thought about this as I sat there, hot, tongue-scorching tea in my hand and a cigarette in the other, and I saw the shopkeeper of a store wash his incense tray. A small, round stainless steel plate with slender half inch tall pipe like cylinders welded into it to hold the incense aloft. I saw him empty it out on the side of the road and for some reason it hit me, that tray could be used like an ashtray too. Now this isn't a jibe or a diss at any culture that considers incense hallowed, it is simply an observation of a utensil and its varied uses, stripped of its purpose and looked upon with simple, straight-forward perspective. And that got me thinking, a huge chunk of growing up is realizing that an object can have two distinct uses that bare no connection to one another. Like a bucket, it is useful for storing water and it's an established product. But at the same time, it can also be a trash bin. The usage is the same, the nature of the content is varied. Sometimes, these multi-usage ideas prop up through creativity, like using riding shoes as planters for saplings, or say an empty bottle of beer can be used as a decorative ornament once you stuff it with string lights. Other ideas come simply from the necessity of the situation. A park bench, for example, becomes a yoga mat replacement for that one middle aged, good natured uncle in the neighborhood who goes on a walk every morning. And it works beautifully for him. He understands that there's more uses to an object than the intention behind its creation. Newspapers are widely popular as kindling for fires in the cold weather, even though they were intended to spread information and promote awareness. 

Then there's the third way of going about it, finding out more uses than the designated one, though this one is pivoted on the innocence of a gentle heart. Umbrellas, for example, are designed to open at the push of a button. While the intention was convenience, it can serve beautifully as a beacon of childlike joy. My face lit up this morning when I was walking down the road and just pushed the button to open my umbrella. It wasn't raining but the pointless action gave me something that made my day. Then there's the situations where something becomes something else because of traumatic incidents. An ID card can become a badge of horror when it represents a dead-end job, toxic coworkers, yelling bosses and an all around dreadful career. At this point, simply a glance at the ID could trigger a primal, guttural rage inside a person. While on the other hand, an object may don the clothes of a stranger and provide refuge to the desperate ones out there. A small back room used for smoking often becomes a sanctum for the ones who assemble there. A sense of comradery, a feeling of acceptance and bonds forged in a dimly lit room thick with smog. There is something truly special about the idea of something that was never intended to be of great help and support to someone, or people, that desperately needed that but somehow it conforms itself through time.

But the worst kind of situations often see the object corrupt itself from inside out. A farmers market is something that everyone thinks about in many different ways. Some would say it's the best place to get good and fresh vegetables. However, any functioning man with the basic background knowledge can decipher that the most profitable item in the market is the souls of the farmers themselves. Years and years of corruption cause the farmer to suffer and starve. Minimum wages would seem like a huge payday and a rarity. This kind of juxtaposition is a bit scary if you ask me. How easily people in power that assign multipurpose to anything they see fit is a shocking revelation. Because to them, it doesn't stem from any necessity or a strike of luck. To them, it is irrelevant and more often than not, uninteresting. A beautiful pigeon can just as easily be roadkill for them, I realise as I walked past the corpse just a few feet from my apartment. Social gatherings become snake pits, and every snake is ready to bear its fangs into you at the push of a button. Kingdoms topple, empires fall, businesses go bankrupt and economies collapse but the snake pit is forevermore venomous. Just like how a face can be a mirror. We often mimic the emotions thrown at us because that is just what we are expected to do. If you hear a sad story, your face must show it. Otherwise, you're an apathetic fool. A face is a mirror to society and can never be true until one embraces their true feelings and gives in to the free fall. Give in to the fear, don't run away from the hate. Because like so many things around us being two-faced, hate is just love in disguise...