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Realization

Growing up I watched the Jetsons. I loved the flying bubble cars that zoomed across their skies. Though I knew our vehicles weren’t made of glass, none-the-less, I knew we existed in bubbles insulated from the world, driving the roads in our own private universe.

Since taking MARTA , I gave up my bubble but remained insulated in my own private world…. until two weeks ago when the train abruptly stopped over interstate 400….. as it wavered for the longest minute of our lives….we began talking…worrying… for the first time I saw the people sharing this bubble with me.

I met boys deploying to Iraq the next day sharing their experiences and the pain of leaving their wives and children behind….flight attendants on their way to the airport… little kids with their parents telling me their favorite part of school…. Upper classmen and first years at my law school, getting advice and reciprocating….

But the starkest encounters are with the people I never encounter … I see them and I wonder about their lives. The young man in the business suit holding a folder tightly in his lap…. is it a resume for an important interview? The tired mother with two children in strollers and one in her arms as she struggles to shephard them in and out…The old man looking vacantly out the window…. The young painters dashing out of breath into the train anxiously checking their cell phones… the boy standing by the door wiping tears from his eyes… the two teenagers skipping class, smiling and glancing nervously… the girl far too young to be doing what she clearly does….

There are people of different races and different economic classes… people whose lives will never intersect but for a short while, on the MARTA as we inhabit so very briefly, the same universe.


21 thoughts on “Realization”

  1. Great post. Sometimes, I see all the faces in the crowd. I look for eye contact. There is this part of me that wants to connect to them all. Because in a second, they are gone from me forever. Just as life goes, I guess.When you used to watch the Jetsons, did you envision our future to be more like their “life”? For awhile as a kid, I was waiting for the flying bubble cars. I’m weird, right? πŸ™‚Talk to you later.

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  2. Marel, that is soo funny, I did believe our life would be that way… I too as a kid waited for the flying bubble cars… but also for the robot maid and the interactive TV and phones.. I guess you really can get video phones now, so that part is kinda true now:)…

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  3. Aisha (much like self)… lol, its funny but i actually think ure so much like me, or vice versa…. i know what u mean about the sharing the bubble theory… im always lookin at people and wondering where they are coming from, where they are going, who those flowers are for, why the frown…the best part about Jetsons was definetly the gadgety thingies… the TVs, phones, cars…

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  4. Sohnii is your name Aisha also? I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way occasionaly.. I guess when you actually realize how many people are in this world, it really is amazing.

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  5. lol… not really, altho ur name is Mashallah very pretty… i meant similarity in the way we think judging by ur previous posts… if i had written on those things, i wudve written the same exact way, or maybe i cud just steal ur posts πŸ˜€

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  6. Anonymous poster has a point, very insightful. While I do realize different people exist, I never looked at it the way you did. Brilliant!P.S. No offense taken.P.P.S. Now, in my apartment, the furniture is quite expensive: old cardboard boxes with a cute cloth on top. The cloth hides the box, gives the illusion of a well-decorated table/TV stand. People complement me on it – then again, I picked it up on the side of the trash bin. Damn, I should stop buying lenses and start paying tuition and some good money for some good furniture.

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  7. Reading takes me back to riding the el train/subway in Chicago…you might appreciate this story. I met my best friend nearly ten years ago at a social function. A few days after meeting we ran into each other at a transit stop. It turns out that we had both been waiting for our respective rides at the same place for months and months but had never noticed one another until after we met. Strange how anonymous and almost invisible we are to others and they are to us, lost in the masses of people.

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