eye of the monster

I’m usually not so disillusioned about things (I’m told I’m a hopeless optimist), one can’t help feeling helpless amidst the harsh face of reality..

I could type of the dusty dry streets of Colombo, the peddlers on the road selling "genuine" Gucci sunnies for 500 Rupees (approximately 5 dollars) or I could tell you of the spectacular golden orange sun as it sinks into the Indian ocean or I could go on about the lush green hills of the country I grew up in.. I could write about it as one would describe one’s child, one that could not do wrong, and is too beautiful to behold…

But the truth, even as it hurts me as I type this, is that it is not so.. There’s so much ugliness in this country. Hate, greed, seeds that have been sown into hearts when one is young, prejudices that have sprung up whilst living in this “Island of Serendipity”, shameful acts committed by people unworthy of being called humans and bloodshed eats up this tiny piece of earth.

The more time I spend here, I realise that human value has lost just that – it’s worth and people have grown apathetic to the injustice that’s conspicuously prevalent, or have lost hope, and have abandoned any kind of quest for justice.

I remind myself never to take for granted – freedom and justice.
Every life has a purpose and mandate, find out what your heart burns/yearns for and do it.. Life is too short to waste on trivial pursuits, and time is too valuable to waste on someone else’s dreams, some neither have time or opportunity.

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter – Martin Luther King