Good Intentions

The screen on the computer went black as it went to sleep mode and yet he was still crying. Softly, covering his mouth with a hand. His shoulders shrugged from time to time. He sat in the silence for a little bit. And shaked his head in denial — how could humanity ever go to war after that? He had just learnt about the Christmas that soldiers spent together on the battlefield during the First World War. How they just got out of the barricades and had this lovely evening together, sharing cigarettes and singing songs, and then went back to killing each other? He discovered this story during his usual lunch watching Youtube but it struck him more than it should have.

He standed up to put on the kettle, agitated and moved by what he’d just seen. He looked out of the window. The janitor was sweeping the streets, meaninglessly, as it was still snowing non-stop. He felt moved to go and help him, his brother, the one like every person on the planet Earth. We should be helping each other and protect each other, no stupid wars. He couldn’t think of which war should be stopped but did know that something was happening far away somewhere there, in the south and in asia… He lost the track of his thoughts trying to remember which wars he’s heard off recently.

He poured flavoury mint tea in a cup and then realised he was out of cookies, the ones that go perfectly with that tea. He should go out to get it, now. He felt inspired to do something — anything really. Maybe he will go out and something will happen? Maybe he will unite with strangers out there just like those soldiers did? We are the same people anyway, he thought.

Decisively, he got dressed and walked out of the flat feeling proud of himself.

He walked out of the elevator and he saw this old lady carrying bags with groceries. He mumbled hello and nodded in greeting. She glanced at him with no expression. He hesitated and in the end decided to offer her help as she went by. She didn’t stop for a second and didn’t turn at him, and just said to herself “Now I’m almost at home, they’re offering help. Like I can’t do it myself now.” He nodded to himself and hurried away from the embarrassment to the street.

As he was walking down the street he went from self-pity to self-encouragement. Next time he’d see this lady in the shop he’d definitely offer to carry her bags. Unless he’s in a hurry or has too much to carry himself, he corrects himself. No, of course this blind approach to helping doesn’t work. He should act with precision. Help those who actually need help. There must be tons of people in need of his help, right?

He squinted his eyes as he noticed someone walking not steadily. A drunk homeless person, as it seems shouting and cursing at the strangers passing by. Out of the reflex he looked away and went to the other side of the road. And then stopped in the middle of the street and turned around. Was that the person who needed his help? He was trying to remember what he’s supposed to do in these situations. He convinced himself that it is not wise to give him money and offer help directly. This only will lead to a more severe alcoholism, he will spend the money on drinks. Plus, he was probably scamming people, and he might be actually content with his situation. He remembered he read something from an NGO, that you’re supposed to tell the organisation. Or are you supposed to tell the person about the organisation? Those people from the organisation should help people like him. He decided to read what you are actually supposed to do to be ready next time as he would come back home. Satisfied with this decision he went around the homeless guy to enter the shop.

As he was going back home he realised that nothing actually happened yet. He lost his enthusiasm a bit and realised how naive it was. But then remembered that he has so many people that might need his help as well. Right there, on the street, he opened his phone and looked at the contact list. He wasn’t in the mood of talking to his mom who’s gonna ask how his dissertation is moving on and give advice on everything. Both of his close friends were writing dissertations, and he definitely wasn’t the one who would be useful to them. He got irritated by how with their wrong priorities on meaningless research while so many people suffer from real-life things.

Then he moved to his brother. Would he need anything? He texted him. No response. Then the brother called — ah, do they need to call now that nobody hardly calls? He answered the call anyway. 
What’s wrong? Nothing. Just wanted to see you. Wasn’t he supposed to be crazy busy with the dissertation? The brother said crazy with this accent they both developed in Greece on vacation. It made Jelayah chuckle. He hesitated to answer and was attempted to lie. Yes, he should be writing a dissertation indeed but he could actually spend this time with his brother. He looked at the cookies in his hand and promised to come around for the cup of tea.