Written by Rakesh Kotti
Dwelling in squalor, behind the wall, and invisible to all, we continue to eke out a living. But the thoughts do haunt us. Why this wall? Some say it doesn’t matter because the leaders see through us anyway. Indeed, we’re invisible to them. But we see them. We get a glimpse of their lives, not their glitzy lifestyles, but their well-fed bellies. We see hope. Just a sliver.
Not having to worry about finding the next square meal is liberating. Free from the anxieties of having to ensure self-preservation enhances the bandwidth of consciousness. The liberties you take for granted is what our suppressed minds aspire for. Warm, clean clothes are all that our malnourished bodies hope for.
When the government cannot provide for us, we are put behind the walls. Out of sight out of mind. But, weren’t we always out of their minds? And now they’re out of their minds too. Otherwise, why would they keep us away, especially when Saheb promised to have 7 million people throng the roads and cheer the MAGA Megalomaniac as he sips on juice from a tetra pack? We could have lined the roads to cheer the white man. Why drag us out of our homes and push us into the gutters behind the wall?
Maybe it’s the guilt. Saheb is guilty of refusing to meet us or help us. That he is unable to provide for a level playing field for us probably pricks his conscience. But, why is he anxious when he has none? Or perhaps the big white man would feel guilty of having exploited us poor people in this rich nation for centuries. If they truly feel guilt, they must break down these walls. The walls that segregate and compartmentalize people in their minds.
Of course, they went to the great man’s ashram. It’s a sham. Because they went to spin stories and not the charkha. If the nation’s first terrorist that Saheb’s party eulogizes hadn’t assassinated the great man, he too would have been pushed behind the wall. Even though he would have come onto this side on his own volition, in his simple loin cloth so that millions can be rescued from the clutches of penury. Still, Saheb and his saffron minions would have pushed the great old man to dwell with us wretches.
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No matter how high the wall is, and no matter how loud the cheering, our voices will not die out. Our silence is being heard by the millions who continue to resist the sharks out to maim and kill. The fish may not shed tears, but they feel our pain. From behind the wall, the florescence of our melanin will permeate sensitive hearts. It will inoculate rational minds that will question and pin down the demagogues.
In the meanwhile, they can continue making futile attempts to insulate themselves from guilt. But their fetid minds are always lurking in the gutters, always in fear of being exposed for their cruelty. On this side of the wall, despite our hungry stomachs and broken hearts, we can hear the loud thunder, as civilization continues its descent into madness. Surrounded by battered wives and raped sisters, our emotions find no words, but we share your tears. And, tough as we are, we will rise from the cinders, with love we shall overcome violence and the sinners!