12 migrants died
another Dalit lynched to death
12 RAPES in 24 hours
*on the platform of railways*
A kid wrapped himself around his mother's ragged garments to wake her out of death.
ADHD. The cognition was in a hit along with vanquished thoughts, pulling all the wrong pulleys. I closed my eyes to rhythmic counts, a pointless exercise. Head binging on the pattern of that child, his staggered toddle and his helpless toil and hunger for his mother’s motion. Humanity losing its claims to clemency in that looped dystopia of agonizing death, of all that was alive. It sews into hopelessness, sharp broken tears of anguish. A civilization of few, built on misery and pain of all the rest. A 10-second trailer of a dystopia that the world is.
I am of the privileged batch, so I get to read about it, as opposed to people that struggle for rudiments in this miserable country. As a person of the middle-class proletariat, I thought I had my quota full of feeling helpless. I was in pursuits of living with the reality of it for as long as I could in whatever form. So, to symbolically catalogue our profanities as a society, electing a regime with genocide on its resume, I began documenting it, in all my quite limited peripheries and angles. It is hard to say what it was; perhaps a ritual of repent. Perhaps. Some days it was unbearable; the other, it made me think. An understanding of nothing I do will ever be enough. So I will leave it at this. This one, in all my privilege, I promise I will not forget.