THE CRYSTAL PALACE

My life began as a Tarot card ; one that cannot be said to have a sure beginning or an end. This might sound puzzling as ,who in the world does not know that they were born of a woman ?we can understand that a person may not know of their real origin or relatives to whom they share blood relations but how can you not know that you come from the female species of human beings?

As far as I can remember, the first time I can say I came to fully realise myself was at Sweetbriar town. Sweetbriar , I may say, was more of a paradise than a town. It was a tiny town, the one that everybody knows everybody and everyone shares everything. Our chief, Mr .Opal, was the best leader we knew. It was through him that the government had funded our town for developments and other scientific innovations that had been established. Everything that the human nature desires was here . We as the residents had few to complain of such as not getting a “perfect peel” on their yoghurt lid ,the jacket zipper catching the inner fabric and the owner results to calling the engineers, having to manually clear a viewing portal just to brush their teeth in the bathroom, wondering if it is the dark ages, just because they have to clear the fogged mirror. And, that is the world I have known since I can remember. A utopian world or maybe, almost utopian. Sweeetbriar was the place Dosteosvesky would refer to as the crystal palace. I had always desired to get a person who I could discuss with about all this. But this was a banned topic , one that would be considered heresy or public incitation. My only solace lay in the words of Fyodor. His books inspired me to think beyond the narrow confines of our existence, becoming my daily companions. Though his writings were strictly banned and barred from the public, I held a quiet advantage: I worked as a clerk in the very archives where they were locked away. No one could stop me from accessing them. I devoured his pages in the quiet solitude of my office, or within the walls of my humble abode—a place so estranged from the village that no one ever dared to visit.

Sweetbriar had managed to eradicate all the pains of humans , other than old age and death. Once while I was still a teenager, I had bravely inquired from the elders I knew if any of them knew of my origin. Their answers were entirely negative, a collective denial that left a deep, aching void within me. People were so comfortable and satisfied with their lives that , no one ever noticed that something was amiss.

I always had a feeling that the life at Sweetbriar was a vague one. Though we were all cognizant of the upper government that had made all the establishments, no one had really seen a government official. The only official that we had beheld was our mayor. The most questionable about it all was that even for the projects that were considered grand , there was never an official who graced these events. The mayor always had apologies read during events and holidays from his seniors and to many of the people, he was the only government we really knew. Sweetbriar was simply a haven , a sanctuary, one that no one had ever thought of leaving. People came from other parts of the country but no one ever left. Seeing a new face in ton was very rare ¬maybe once in two years.My days were all the same. Though named differently, there were always the same tasks and activities to be done each day. I headed to the archives every day at six in the morning as the dew reflected the sun`s rays. However due to the advancements in the human way of living, the mornings were usually warm ones even in times that before would have been unusually cold. On arriving at the office I would serve myself a drink, soft or hot, after which I would go to my office. Few people ever came to the archives. They were always busy having fun, or o working on how to get cure for death and old age. I, therefore, had the most time in the world to interact with the works of the great men. This books were the only difference between me and Akaky.

Akaky had always lived in despair , a lonely and sad life with his coat . The coat that had been so dilapidated but he could not accept it. I had decided not to live like him. I would be alone, but never lonely. My books would be my safe place¬ listening to the wisdom of the great ones before us. I wanted to be the one person who would not forget history.

Everyone in Sweetbriar had an identity card which unlike other countries, was used to access entry into public and recreation centres. From a certain numbering, in groups of about a thousand , each had a day in which they could go into certain places. Everything was so well coordinated that it was orderly and accidents rare. This was the happy life that each person had always wished for in times past. I had also accepted this environment that I lived in until one day that changed my view of everythingIt was the day that I found a great book that was buried under some pile of debris from a wall that had fallen and crushed on a shelf in the confidentials room. The book was still in the best form possible except for the dust on it. A colleague happened to accidentally spill something on it but , fortunately only the front cover was destroyed....