The Interview
By: Usman Ahmed
Tags: Dialectics, Morality, Coronavirus

“Ummm…so we are all set?”

The cameraman gives me the thumbs up. I can’t see his face.

“Okay, brilliant, let’s begin, we are honored to have you here with us, Mister R-”

“Call me Grim, please, and thank you for having me.”

Cheeky prick.

I do my best to hide the ensuing scowl on my face, but fail miserably. He has sensed the hate I harbor for him already, and grins knowingly. I hate it when that happens during my interviews, and that too from the very start. But I need to keep my composure right now. The world needs to know.

“Alright, Grim it is then, let’s cut to the chase, sir. You are up to speed on the stats? Nearly 400-”

“Yeah I know I know. To be honest, you guys got off easy. Come a long way from burning corpses and amputations, haven’t you?”

Christ. How am I supposed to respond to that?

I continue.

“Claiming thousands of lives and bringing markets all around the globe to an economic standstill, Covid-19 has left nothing but death and destruction in its wake. Thoughts?”

“Cute.” “But,” he quickly chimes in when he catches me completely off-guard, aghast at his aloofness, “, I mean, we have seen much worse, haven’t we?”

“I guess we have, but you can’t use that to trivialize the suffering we are enduring right now.”

“No, no, certainly not.” A hint of apology. Thank God. “But think of it as a process of natural selection, if it helps. A way for mother Nature to ease her burdens. It’s been happening since the beginning of time. Floods, earthquakes, plagues and whatnot. It’s all a vicious cycle to me. Under no circumstances whatsoever mistake my jadedness for indifference.”

“Wow. The Darwinists are gonna have a field day with this, sir. You don’t believe that there’s meaning to all this chaos? Divine overtones, perhaps. A way for a higher power to keep us all in check?”

“No, I don’t. I find your anthropocentrism adorable. Part of what makes you so interesting as a species. Delusions of grandeur and purpose, if you will. Not to sound nihilist, but one of the greatest obstacles to your pragmatically dealing with crises like these is something you cherish most.”

“And what is that?”

“Faith.”

“Interesting idea, sir, but billions would disagree. Isn’t it faith that causes us to help our fellow brethren in times like these? Isn’t it faith that provides us with the moral obligation with the necessary underpinnings to strive for our progress and survival as a species? Where would we be if it weren’t for the message of hope articulated in our rites and scriptures, no matter how mundane and tedious they may seem.”

He grimaces.

“Your faith is nothing but a tool that you use time and again to further your own ends. It’s nothing but pathetic opportunism, really. Need I remind you that the faith you are invoking right now to exercise restraint is the same one that you invoked for justifying genocides and pogroms?”

I’m flabbergasted. I don’t know how to proceed.

He raises his tone, as if fueled by my uncertainty.

“…yes, conflicts which caused millions of deaths, let alone the “thousands” you can’t seem to shut up about. And not only that. I find these “isms” of yours utterly deplorable. Nationalism, for instance, justifying sacrifice for the “greater good”, whatever that is. Somebody hasn’t done their homework regarding the damages incurred by humanity due to nationalism, I believe.”

Ouch. The World Wars. Vietnam. Ukraine. Palestine. He’s right. But I have to go on. For our sake.

“We are veering off topic. Regardless of what you think, we are dealing with something that may not be unprecedented, but is shocking nonetheless. The question is, how long?”

“As long as it takes.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“As long as it takes for you to see, goddammit.”

“Excu-”

“Don’t you get it?” The vile man finally snaps. “It was never about the deaths or the misery. It never is. Stop distorting everything into a narrative that satiates your appetite for meaning in a meaningless universe. Let me tell you exactly why this gets to your head.”

What the hell?

It takes everything I have to not fire back at him.

“Why?”

“Your pride, that’s what. That’s the real casualty here. I mean, just look at yourselves. With your flags and your borders and your cultures and your claims that you have reached the zenith of civilization. You are all control freaks, that’s what you all are. Priding yourself on this “global village” of yours that you have built upon mass graves. It’s not the pandemic that threatens your false sense of accomplishment. It’s the quarantine, for it implies the curtailment of your social freedom and liberty, values for which you have sacrificed everything. Wars, famine, murder, genocide, rape, poverty, intellectual stagnation, they don’t scare you, for history bears witness to the fact that you have indulged in all of them willingly. But as soon as something poses a challenge to your skewed notions of liberty and parasitic conceptions of freedom, the fate of the whole human race is at stake. Suddenly we see the resurgence of faith, patriotism and humanitarianism, all of which are erstwhile pawns in this heinous game of yours, to secure your pathetic freedom. At what cost though? Your individuality and your-”

“Okay, enough.” I have to stop him and try to salvage some of the remains of our tattered self-esteem.

I need a strawman. And fast.

“So what you are implying is, that the death of thousands means nothing to us? That all the precautions and the pains taken by governments around the world, it’s all about pride? That doctors and paramedics risking their lives are in on it too? Pretty cynical, even for you. But it’s easy for you to say, since all you do is walk around handing out death certifi-”

I stop midsentence. I see I have struck a nerve. His cruel face contorts with rage. He is livid.

“Spare me the banter. Every single day, your corporations and your governments make decisions that have impacts resonating for generations after. Your economic and migrant policies, veto powers, defense budgets spell death and decadence for millions, if not billions around the world. The virus has caused only a tiny fraction of the hell that you bring upon your “brethren” every passing second. And no, it’s not easy. Humming lullabies to a child dying from starvation is never easy.”

Lord.

It’s the nail in the coffin. I have to concede defeat. He knows it. The sadist fiend. Sitting on his throne of skulls. I can almost hear his demented cackle.

“Ummm…very well. That is your opinion. I beg to differ. To each their own, I guess. This was…enlightening.” Devastating, more like.

I stand. And then I do something that will haunt me till my last breath. I shake his hand. It’s pure instinct. I will try to wash it off, but the scent of death will always linger.

“Thank you so much for taking some time off from your…uh…hectic schedule. It was a pleasure, Mr. Reaper.”

He grins. In his cold pupil-less eyes, I see our destiny.

“The pleasure is mine. And please. Grim, if you will.”