Sometimes I may smile in pride
That I am a symbol
Of things much bigger than my own little self
Of issues – national, international, human.
And yet, if you ask me
I would have liked to be my own little self
Ordinary, a non-entity
Like other thousands and millions and billions of people
Like you
I would have liked to fight with my loved ones
To bitch about my boss
To complain about the canteen
To make plans about finishing studies, getting married, buying a car, a house
To be alive.
I would have liked
Not to be a victim
Of road mafia
Of oil gangsters
Or of sadist rapists.
I would have liked
Not to be a symbol
But to be ordinary
To be alive.
