I needed to visit some roses today, find a large red one and sink my brains inside its simplicity.
My sister had sent me a whatsap telling me about an 8 year old girl in Yemen who had died on her wedding night, when the 40 year old man had raped her and she bled to death.
I wished my sister had not sent me this news. It blackened the night. But that did not kill the truth – that a little baby had died due to poverty, uncaring parental callousness and political apathy.
Then there is that awful, unbearable every day dread of wondering how many geese and ducks have gone to their prolonged, mangled, murderous deaths as weird humans cook them for their gourmet dish. Foie Gras – that must be one of the world’s most sickening names.
A young black student in my own city was attacked by a mob when an accident had resulted in a person being hurt, not even seriously injured. But the mob had caught hold of the girl in his car, pulled her out and mangled and brutalized her.
The maid who works for a neighbor had lost her son when he was bullied by rich students in the night college where he was studying to become an engineer. In the mornings he worked as an office cleaner. But because he was doing well in college, but had to wear second hand clothes, he was bullied till he took poison and died.
It is at such times that solitude lures us when nothing seems to change the hideousness of everyday living, except nature, its blessed silence. Our helplessness – that we can’t run to Yemen or Hyderabad (where a five year old girl came to hospital bleeding because her brother, ten, had abused her after learning sexual cruelty in his mobile) and the mother refused to believe her story, to save innocence. We can’t believe in a God when wars and human greed come down on children and animals and birds.
We can only sit still till the quake settles a little, and wonder whether we should even pray any more…or just let solitude save us..