A dead women’s secret.
I had to imagine that their road back home was long, almost endless. Living on the outskirts of the city had its perks, but it was a pain to get to. On my first and last visit, I remembered seeing the ghoulish figure of the trees, moaning and groaning to the wind, almost as if they were whining. This winter was especially harsh, with its tsunami like wind and its numbing temperatures. But it wasn’t just the temperature that numbed my thoughts. How could I do that? Such a garish crime, to the one I loved? How did I dare? I quickly pushed the thought to the back of my mind, but it wouldn’t budge. Like a stubborn child, it threw a tantrum, refusing to leave. So I let it engulf me. It took me in its icy grip, icier than the temperature, and let it swallow me whole. Why was I letting it happen? I didn’t know. Maybe because I finally found my morality or maybe because it was my last few minutes. But it felt good. Soothing almost. It freed my numb fingers and let a surge of rage and emotion flow through them. At the end of it, was it worth it? Hurting someone, to damage and bruise them, to cut them and deprive them of emotion? I would never know.
I looked around my cell. It was bare. Stained with crimson of past crimes, holding secrets more tragic and horrible than mine. I looked in front of me. White. The irony amused me and i whipped my hair back and laughed and for that one second, my mind was finally free from the thoughts that haunted it. The cell guard stared at me, at the shackles that bound me. He looked disinterested. Of course, I wasn’t the first. There were others before me, who had sucked him void of emotions and left him plain. Emotionless. Tired. I wished to take his place, free from the shackles physically and the ones that bound my mind. Maybe in a few minutes, I would be free and it frightened me. These would be my last few moments. I would die, not as a patron of good but a symbol for evil. My image would be spit on. It would be shouted at for my brutality, but what could be done now? Nothing. The only thing to do was let my actions swell me up with regret and take my rightful position.
Honestly, I had no idea why I did it. It’s like the adrenaline and the alcohol surged me. It swept me up to the euphoria of the clouds and made me see only the sunny part of my crime.I now vividly remember her face. The horror. The shock. Her agony. Everything had now transcended onto me, as a punishment. I remember walking through her old mahogany door into the bright living room. She sat there peacefully next to him watching. She looked serene. She was the perfect embodiment of grace and harmony. When she was happy she swayed with the trees and when she was mad, she could conjure up a horrible storm. But the serenity dissipated when she heard the sound. Seconds before, my hands trembled and shivered, seconds after I couldn’t feel it. My hand went limp. My rifle, once cocked up with pride, fell down on the floor, shattering any pride it once held. I keenly watched the bullet rotate, like a small hummingbird with the strength of a thousand elephants. It tossed and turned like a sleepless child, as time slowed down, forcing me to reflect on my actions. Finally it crept up into her, and broke everything. It broke the peace, it broke her trust and broke my life. Soon after, the shouting followed. Loud screams of torment and pain. He ran towards me and broke down. He hugged me like I was his very own sister, looking for even the most remote sense of sympathy. But I had none to offer. She has extracted every one bit from me. I nudged him to get a glass of water, but he remained unmoving, like her. A tear rolled down my face, whether it was pain or happiness, I didn’t know. For the sake of him and his family, I hoped it was pain. I now wonder, how they feel returning to the same house, where dried blood fell of their once beautiful house.
The gate creaked open, and the cell guard burst through my thoughts. He instructed me to follow him and as I got out, the metal clanged against everything I walked through. My path was no better than the annoying clang. Inmates shouted and howled praises and curses as I dragged my way through. And eternity finally allowed me to reach the room. Blank. White. Ghostly. One chair and one light would be my final sight.
In front of me, sat no one. No one cared enough to show up.No one cared of my existence at all. Oh well, how did that affect me anymore? My same cell guard stood in front of me, his boredom was back. Next to him stood a strange man, in a black mask holding a long syringe. The syringe I would blame for my ultimate demise. I looked in front again in the hopes that someone would show up, that my eyes had tricked me and people cared.
The guard looked at me, and with a monotonous voice managed to get out instructions and patiently waited for me to carry them out. Briefly he had a conversation with the man in the mask, something not too happy I inferred. They looked at me and asked “anyone coming to watch?” Surprised by my inability to speak, I chocked out the word “no.” The guard still showed no sympathy. He strapped me into the chair and asked “any last words?” and without a thought or doubt I screamed out “she wasn’t the only one and I have no regrets.” Soon after, the world transitioned into black.
Say no to war
Through the little window in her room, she peeked out to see if the planes were still flying above her, even though amma told her not to. They said “curiosity killed the cat” but would the curiosity be worth it if they were all going to die anyway? The concept of war confused her. To her, it seemed as if the battleground were a sand pit and the two parties were boisterous little children fighting over the last toy. From ajja she’d managed to get some details. She overheard little tid bits of information from the closed door. “if this is going to break out into full fledged war, what are we going to do?”
A few days later, everything seemed calm. All the planes had gone away, all was peaceful. she was especially excited since today was show and tell at school. As she pulled up her socks as appa walked in the living room, looking stern as ever. “She isn’t going to school today. “Just like that, with no explanation he walked away. She exchanged her disbelief with amma, but walked to school anyway.
During lunch, they played hide and seek. Happy chirps rung the air, and then it began. The blue skies suddenly covered by death. The aroma of happiness no longer existed and as replacement the sharp stench of blood was distinct. she heard a scream as a bullet rapidly soared around the slides. Stone cold men rushed into the class, ushering to get their revenge. The cry of war had begun.
We know war isn’t the answer, yet we still instigate it? Have we finally reached a day where revenge is worth more than lives? Where, in the name of patriotism, we yell out cries of war? Why do we persistently ignore the young and old lives that we injure through even just the thought of war? Is killing worth more than happiness? War has become such a common precedent in our lives, that we forget to fear it anymore. The sound of cocked rifles has become background music in our mind. the feeling of dread we feel when two countries are at a dispute is a way for memes to rise. When did war become a game? when will we learn to say no to war?
Earth our giant trash can
In dark woods,
I lose my path
To terrors of the past
And evils that won’t let go
Green decayed
To form violence
And no matter how much I prayed
War would never turn to quietness
National Geographic states that every year, we lose forests as large as Panama and because of this deforestation, Global Warming is becoming unstoppable. Even if humans start to replace all the trees we have cut down, we couldn’t reverse the damage we’ve done. Simply planting trees doesn’t replace the complex ecology that once used to exist in the area. Although people have started to realize the importance of forests, we still hear news about indigenous tribes having no where to go because industries cut down their homes.
Once the damage has been done, its irreversible.
The drip from the tap
Made heads turn
Faster than you could clap
Gunshots fired without a concern
Assam is being flooded as of now. Right now, thousands of people are dying. Thousands of memories are being lost. Thousands of stories that could never be told. Situations like these truly make you realize that (even though its highly cliched) phrases like ‘Water, water everywhere but not a single drop to spare’ are becoming more real in every second. The fight for water resources is no longer a dream. The water crisis is here and unless we want it to become a ‘prey or be preyed on’ situation, we have to do something. Over 1.5 Billion people don’t have access to water resources.
The sad part is that I don’t see the number going down anytime soon.
Amidst the gray air
Soldiers came marching
To claim what was rare
With no care for who they were harming
Air pollution indoors, often due to fires for cooking or heating, cause 4.3 million deaths every year. But this isn’t the only cause of deaths related to air pollution. Emissions from vehicles, factory smoke and many others release unwarranted amounts of Carbon. And even though the cap and trade system has tried its best to work, it has utterly failed. Its time we moved to other energy sources. Why is it that we can normalize a fuel that produces way too much toxins, when we can’t find it in ourselves to normalize green energy like solar panels?
Longing to hear stories
Of when everything was a plenty
But now in the future
The only sight was gloom
The time is now. It doesn’t matter if global warming will become irreversible in 18 months or 18 years. Do whatever you have to. Send out pleas to switch to green energy, participate in rallies that tackle deforestation and please, just turn off the tap when its not required. Its not enough to donate money and sit back claiming to have contributed. Take off time to clean garbage off the road, no matter how much it disgusts you because if we keep allowing our situation to worsen, The Earths only going to become one huge stinky, unusable trash can. The time is now, do your part.
Is the Death Penalty actually fair?
During the Nazi regime, death through gas chambers was extremely popular and put a ‘mere’ 6000 Jews to death. This is genocide. Currently, the United States holds a record of 1481 (since 1976) deaths due to the death penalty. In 2017, 2591 people were killed due to death sentences in over 53 countries. Currently, 21,919 people are under the death sentence, where inmates spend roughly 15 years waiting for their inevitable demise. Now, this is nowhere ‘close’ to the deaths due to gas chambers but in times where revolts, protests, social media campaigns and ethics outlaw genocide, is it really moral to use the death penalty as a punishment?
Drawing parallels to the gas chambers, Hitler would have spent a scanty hundred thousand US Dollars, for all four camps in Auschwitz. But the death penalty now costs much more. It costs a taxpayer $90000 more for death penalty inmates. If it costs the average taxpayer approximately $31,286 to keep a prisoner in jail for his entire life then it costs taxpayers $121,286 for the death penalty (per annum). Converting that to Indian rupees, over half the Indian population would be in paramount debt right now. Harm Reduction International confirmed that 33 nations have sentenced inmates to the death penalty for drug offences... but I don’t see the elicitation of drugs disuniting anytime soon. The point is simple; the death penalty is a burden costing much more than the population should have to pay, but getting nowhere in terms of serving justice.
In a previous paragraph, genocide was brought up. According to the Cambridge dictionary, genocide is the murder of a whole group of people. If there are 714 people waiting on the death sentence in California, does this mean the death penalty is genocide or, more formally put, ‘legal homicide.’ The question here, is not if this murder is truly legal but if it should be legal. The death penalty is usually ‘awarded’ to criminals for homicide. If today's judicial system truly follows an ‘eye for an eye’ attitude towards these prisoners, does it make the whole world blind? In 2017, Keith Tharpe, on trial for the murder of his sister-in-law was called “n*gger” by his juror and was executed on 26th September in Georgia. Simple bias is a factor here, he didn't cognate with Keith's culture and therefore wanted to sentence him to death.
Back when I was 6, I wholly admired the song ‘The Circle of Life’ from The Lion King. What I didn’t realize at the time was it’s connection to so many global issues. The hypocrisy of the death penalty makes my stomach ache. If killing is how we justify a victim’s pain and turmoil, then do inmates suddenly become the victim? In North Korea, holding prisoners under death sentences is quite typical, but actually killing them is not. The traumatic psychological effects of these are immense; and hence, a probable reason behind why prisoners commit suicide on death row so often. The effects don’t just impact prisoners but citizens too - stories of suicide build a cove of distrust and fear. Is this what the government wants to achieve with the capital punishment? Instead of countries pooling in their resources to find truly dangerous criminals, they spend all their revenue on death sentences, which half the time don’t even happen due to the aforementioned suicide rates.
Death penalties have a lot of a lot of faults: bias, economic effects, phycological impacts, too many mishaps and the cherry on top; just being ineffective. As the Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said: “there’s no justice in killing in the name of justice.” States of the European Union have moved to more pacifist approaches to arson and death. The results have truly been miraculous. In the USA, death penalty is favourably looked upon, with no results the country can brag about. The truth is death penalties should be banned, but the idea is superficial and as citizens, we must question ‘why?’
The minorities outcry
She was tired.
Tired of the insults
Tired of everyone that stood her way
Tired of the way society worked.
The minorities outcry has been raging since the peak of globalisation. From Bahrain
legalising women driving cars to equal pay in Iceland, the globe has made some significant
changes in history. Democracies and Governments are doing everything they can to win
the favour of the public by promising equal pay, newer, stronger discrimination laws and more seats for women and minorities in the Senate.
Outside her window
People yelled for women
But outside her window
no one yelled for her
But one thing that strikes as a fall back for us is the lack of an outcry for minorities. 37% of Arab women have experienced some form of violence and nearly 4 in 10 women who are victims of homicide are killed by an intimate partner. This has to end. Is there really a point of rallying on the roads of a rich town when minorities are facing harassment and abuse every day in smaller, quieter places? Is there really a point to social campaigns if the farmers in a village in India still don't know their rights?
Her hijab covered her face
Like the house covered her from the world
Her hijab covered her face
Blocking her ray of hope
Why aren’t issues like women surviving human trafficking trending? The problem here is
how our society functions. Are Instagram posts really more interesting than listening to a survivors memories? Is it worth spending countless hours scrolling through someone’s feed, even when you're missing out on historical changes in society? Everyone’s guilty here. You, me and everyone who endorses likes and comments over stories and experiences.
She’d seen the reforms take place
But it did nothing for her
“Help them” they chanted
But it did nothing for her
So, let’s be the change. Let’s start promoting minorities because the only way we can progress as a society is to hear the minorities outcry.
Her outcry
Should’ve been listened to long ago
Her outcry
No one would ever know