Entitlement

by Rumaan Alam

Love was a synaptic flash, it was a chemical response, it was a hunch, it was a leap into the void.

There was such satisfaction in existing only within yourself. What she loved about urban life, to be among others but apart from them.

“We are not in need.” This was plain. Some were, some were not. It was not a question of shame. Luck and God’s grace and a million other factors were at play.

She didn’t know how secure the future ever was. Money was a hedge against that, just like faith, or superstition, or the thousand other strategies people used to survive a day. She was the only person in the room old enough to comprehend this.

We wish that, of the people we truly love, to see them as they were before we knew them.