The Moth (Musing)
The solitary moth sits pert on the side of the wall. Sometimes I wonder if it was sitting or resting or is it really stuck to the side of the wall. Of course to say that it is perched on the side of the wall kind of sounds weird as well. Either way, it is there, for some miraculous reason it is able to maintain its stoic position, unwavering, and amidst all that disquiet, it is like a symbol of mystery.
Some grandmother (grandfathers are usually used for naming roads) story say that these moths are representative of relatives that may have passed on and are back to visit you. The problem is, the moth can’t talk, and therefore you are left guessing which relative is really here to visit you. So it is reasonable that most people would say it is a grandmother’s story, because I vaguely remember someone’s grandmother telling me that exact same story.
The disturbing thing about all this talk about moths is that it still didn’t explain where did this moth appear from and where it flew from. Did it birth out of a cocoon from some corner, or did it really come from afar and brings with it a hidden message of “whatever”. To spiritualise it would be the easy way to rationalise it. In fact it is an easy way to rationalise anything. Just say, “it’s one of your relatives here to visit. Don’t ask so many questions.” That probably settles further queries from the children, but I really wonder what do the adults think. Or are they really grown up children telling and passing down stories that their grandmothers’ told them. Who knows.
Anyway the moth is still there.