Reason is Balance

A Short story

Ntseh sat in his chair, staring at the bottle of whisky that sat on his table. It was way past office hours and was such an ungodly hour. His office was no bigger than a boxing ring. Or so it seemed. It had shelves covering all four walls full of books and case files. Other boxes were everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Most times, he felt like the office was full of nothing really. His creaking chair and dancing table were the firmest pieces of furniture that called that office home. Other than the door he walked through every day, he was sure there was a window somewhere.

The precinct was quite deserted now and Ntseh actually had nothing doing. The condition of the country had caused the crime rate to go up a staggering 60%. A large variation from the usual 10% increment during the festive periods. War was really a bad thing after all. Everything was inside out, many people were losing their lives and property. But in his case, sleep.

And he was not getting any if he went home that night, he had forgotten to give money to the fridge repairer to get the new thermostat for the fridge at home; the old white cupboard in the house that made a lot of noise and cost him so much money in electricity bills. How was he supposed to remember something like a thermostat, aid to a machine causing him so much pain? He didn’t think he had seen it before and would rather not look stupid by walking into a store in the dead of night asking for a thermostat.

Now that he thought about it, he had come across the word before, many years ago. Then, he was a young lad trying to find his way in the messy reality of life. He liked words and so looked up every new one he saw. Thermostat back then was a new one and quite strange. As he recalled, a thermostat measures and controls temperature or something of that sort. His country sure needed a thermostat right about now. His office sure did.

The war that hit the country some three years back took some unaware. Some, of course, had been organizing and gathering funds for the entire process. People like him were just the grass suffering as the giants battled. Reason, the true thermostat of every human society had truly fled the country. People were either too hot or too cold. Anybody not as extreme met with a bullet; considered a black leg or otherwise.

The entire country, and not just the whole but the individuals, has lost its balance. Peaceful law abiding citizens had gone wild. Personal thermostats, or reason or conscience or whatever it was that kept the balance was gone. Children lived in the bushes and paraded around with guns. Learning to kill, to survive, and to be men.

With the thermostat gone, some have grown quite hot. Burning with rage and anger so much so that the people they once were have been long lost. Different creatures, vile and demonic have taken their place. Willing to go the extra mile to archive the goal of the Body to which they belong. Anything or anyone that stands between them and the end goal will meet the brutal words of the talking stick. Perforating their mortal bodies and pulling downfalls from the eyes of those that once loved them. Consciences were all gone.

But the thermostat balances temperature, cold and hot. And with it gone, some people have grown so cold. The patriotic fire that once burned in many has lost its fuel stolen by fear and betrayal. When the military failed to protect them from the freedom fighters and the fighters forgot all the sacrifices of old. When they were abandoned by the system they had looked up to, fought for and defended with all they had.

Because reason, the thermostat, has gone for a long trip, the fire has completely died out. So they go into self-exile, packing their bags, literally and metaphorically and going to a land that never was home.

The mystery behind every successful and stable society was the thermostat. At least that is what he thought after remembering that his fridge was freezing all over without it. That everything was spinning out of control because the one little piece was no more. He knew the times, and was living it but could not help but wonder whether reason was not enough. From what he saw, the people he once called kinsmen now acted out of instinct. Civil War was a bad plague, pitting brother against brother.

He stood up from his chair and walked slowly towards the door. He’d had grabbed the bottle of whisky with him and gulped down a mouthful as he leaned against the door. The burning in chest felt like a penance, a purification. But he couldn’t figure what it was for.

Maybe, somehow, he too had lost his balance, his thermostat. Because somehow, no matter how much he tried, he could not help but consider the idea of quitting the police force and take up a life of drinking. With the state of the country, being a police officer, the thermostat, was the worst thing to be.

He staggered out of his office, not bothering to lock the door as he walked away. He made his way through the sea of tables that sat before him and came up upon the door of the precinct and pushed it open. The cold night air that whipped his face was refreshing but the grabbing silence was grim.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it up to his face. It was a news alert from his news app. Some lady in Tokyo had just become the world’s first ever female Asian billionaire. He envied the parts of the world that still had their thermostats. The peace and stability they enjoyed. Many took it for granted, all he wanted was to tell just one of them to enjoy it, while it lasted. For soon, it might be no more.

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