Blood on the world’s hands…

In a world that has witnessed the existence of great human beings such as Buddha, Jesus, Mahatma Gandi, Martin Luther King, mother Theresa and Nelson Mandella it is imperative that we realize the value and importance of being selfless, giving and forgiving. We are all caught up in a tangle maze of selfish desires of our own that, as human beings, we have forgotten the importance of giving, sharing and caring. Instead we have learnt to embrace more and more greedily for just ourselves, to cherish our own lives. We have learnt to leave behind and turn away from people who have loved, cared and nurtured us through thick and thin over the years just in a heartbeat that it makes me wonder sometimes whether we have any humanity left in us at all. We blindly, endlessly chase behind lifeless materialistic things seeking our own comfort that sometimes we do not even realize that we are stealing lives away in that process. In our selfishness we lie, cheat, steal and even kill. It seems as though conscience has escaped our minds, our sense of right and wrong has died.

We are all caught up in a spiral going straight in the direction of destruction, disorder and chaos that it is important that at least now we realize the weight of the consequences of our actions. We always make everyone else an excuse for our wrong doings. We always say, “he lies, she lies, everyone else lies, so I lie too”. We always say “he is selfish, she is selfish, everyone else is selfish, and so I am selfish too, to save my own skin, to gain advantage, it is important in this time and age”. We always justify saying it is about the survival of the strongest. We always defend our wrongs saying it is just the way of survival. So each day, more people lie, more people give and take bribes, more people cheat and steal, and they even take lives. And we fail to realize that it is us, only us, who suffer through the consequences again. Look around, there are approximately 17 000 murders a year, in the US alone; that is 45 murders a day. Approximately 20 000 murders take place annually in South Africa, 30 000 murders annually in Russia, and over 40 000 murders annually in Brazil. There had been 32 000 murders recorded in India, in the year of 2007 alone. 

Moreover, nations have set out seeking power, land and wealth, always leaving behind wars that have only killed millions of people and left millions more who have had to suffer through poverty, starvation, sorrow, and loss of hope. How much clearer must it get after witnessing humanity suffer through two great world wars that have swallowed more number of lives than what we would ever learn to count in our life time? How much clearer must it get before we finally realize that in the bigger picture, the selfish decisions we make can cause suffering to a great many including ourselves? Do we even care? Do we ever even stop to think?

Furthermore, how selfish must a man become, before he becomes bold and brave to savagely play and toy around with another human’s life, another human’s future, for just a moment of pleasure? It is estimated that a woman in Africa is more likely to be raped than to be taught how to read. Approximately a woman is raped every 17 seconds in Africa, a woman is raped every 45 seconds in the US. One of every 200 women in the UK were reported as raped in 2006 alone, having a rape rate of 230 per day that year.

There had been 14 005 615 people charged for crimes in the year of 2008 in the US alone. There had been 880 000 reported crimes in 2008 in the UK.

And we must understand that as long as we keep justifying our wrong doings taking others as examples, these numbers will just continue to increase. And tomorrow might be your day, or maybe mine, to pay our dues with our lives.

A minority of people enjoy most of the resources, wealth, power and luxuries while a large majority starve and suffer; a minority have stolen the lives and dreams of a large majority. And we still collect and collect, without stopping to think that every time we try to take hold of more of what should have been shared amongst many, it makes thousands more people poor and forces hundreds more to be thieves. And we gather and collect till someone steals it all away. We collect with greed and selfishness in our hearts, as though we would own them for all eternity. We have forgotten that when the lights go out, we must leave it all behind. The path we’ve chosen does not end in paradise, it ends in our own demise. We need to open our eyes, open our minds, and see beyond our selves to cure this cancer we have designed.

We must remember, as a society, we must all reap what we have sown. It is time that we stopped this spiral heading downwards and started moving it the other direction.

They taught us this Sinhala poem when I was in grade one. Though what it said was really simple, it took me almost 15 years to understand what it really meant. It was so simple and yet so full of meaning that I was amazed how we never realize or even stop to think about any of it. It simply meant that even if a tree is filled with fruits, we must pluck only that many that we can devour, and nothing more, for those fruits are there to be enjoyed by many others too, and not just a few. Is it not amazing how far a simple thought can go? We say we think, for we exist, but do we stop to think at all, what we have been, what we have become?

What if someone says no to a bribe today instead of saying yes? What if someone tells the truth instead of a lie? What if someone spares another man’s life instead of killing? What if someone forgives another instead of raging out to harm? What if someone gives another a flower instead of a gun to kill?

A wide raging river first begins with small springs that come together, and it finds its way to the ocean and nothing can stand in its way. It has to start somewhere at some point, so why not let it be today, right here, right now? What if we can learn to be like those springs that strengthen the river instead of being mountains that try to reach higher than the others?

Maybe, just maybe, there will be a day, that we will learn to look beyond our selves. A day that everyone will speak the truth and not lie or cheat. A day that no one will give or accept a bribe. A day that everyone will learn to forgive. A day that everyone will learn to give and share, and not steal. A day that people will come forth to save a life, instead of to steal that life away. A day that people will learn to love, and not hate. If we ever learn to be selfless, we would be able to see the day, where not only the fittest, but even the weakest will survive and prosper, a day that no one will be left behind.

And we would finally be that river, finding our way to the ocean, and nothing would stand in our way. And there would be a day, after our youth is long since gone and the lines on our faces are ever so clear, that we would be able to look in the mirror with our heads up high and think to ourselves, we won, we overcame the struggle of life, we never gave up on what was good in this world, and we never died inside, we always lived, we lived as human beings, and we saved a future, for the children who’d be born tomorrow.

V.

A whispering in the wind…

Secrets secrets, whisperings in the wind,

Twisted perverse tongues sing lullabies of lies and sins,

They put you and me to serene sleep,

Only so we wake in our twisted coma

On the highway spiraling down straight to the abyss,

We race faster and faster as time tricks the clock,

Our minds intoxicated with the sweet poison of vanity and greed,

We’ll run a little more, before we mourn what we’ve really lost

You've built your empire on sins and immoralities

You’ve made lust greed and hatred your religion and creed

Now that the storm of time is reaching ever so close,

Can you still hide away behind those crumbling walls?

Your empire will fall, as the innocent turn into walking dead,

They’ll rob your grave, and rape your mother,

In the blink of an eye, for a moments pleasure,

Who would you blame then, but your self

So hear my scream fellow voyager, not as mere words,

Time is running out, the end is near,

Fathom the depth, before the unknown swallows the earth,

Wash away your greed and hatred pitch black,

Your wounds shall be cleansed, but neither with more wealth nor blood…

V.

Evil Fantasies (Part I)

The night veiled by the tender rain, the pit turned rather muddy, cold breeze pierces the skin of the spectators as their veins pump burning, raging blood. They all restlessly await what is about to happen. The gloomy, ominous atmosphere slowly continues to turn those burning souls yet more sadistic with its voodoo whilst the sound of the rain harmonizes with the wind and fills the air, and the mist does its enchanting dance.

She then comes through the mist, and gets into the muddy pit, where she knows she belongs. She has only a translucent veil covering her nude body, rain drops softly caressing her skin, as envious eyes stare at every subtle detail on the Venus. She is about to get muddy, and soon enough, bloody.

The slightly visible scars on her breasts show that she is no stranger to pain, dark vices of the insane. Her mind, it is darker than the darkest of nights, her heart in love with the obscene. But her innocent eyes of a deer disguise her twisted mind, making her the perfect victim, the master, of burning souls. After all, she is a woman, and she has the right, to own the darkest and most perverse of all fantasies.

She kneels in the mud as a good slave waiting for her master would do, and glances at every pair of eyes that is burning with lust, she knows they are the corridors right into their souls; except hers, and she knows what every soul there is aching for. She cannot hide her delicate smile as she sees them right through. The smile is for a reason, but the viewers do not know.

He then comes, with whips and shackles in his hands. As her, he too gets into the pit, nude, whilst the mist and rain hopelessly attempt to hide his nudity. His cock is thick and long, in readiness to tear her apart. He thinks as he looks at her, she shall have all what pleases her, and more, in this unholy night.

She looks him in the eye before she looks at his cock; her lascivious eyes know neither shame nor fear. She knows the night never disappoints her, her cunt wet as October, her sacred fluids running down her thighs, blending with the mud and water, at the thought of the merciless, vulgar, animalistic pleasure that she is about to live.

She will take a good look at all the guests once more before she is blindfolded, for then she can paint her fantasy with the fire in the eyes of those men who'd kill to get the chance to ravage her, for then, while he thinks that she thinks of him, her imagination can run wild with a thousand men. And it is her little secret, hers alone, only for her to know. After all, she is a woman, and she has the right, to own the darkest and most perverse of all fantasies.

He takes a moment and gazes at the muddy Venus with a certain hunger in his eyes. He gazes at her slightly shivering, shaking body that aches for a man's touch, her soft melon breasts that move to the rhythm of her slightly heavy breathing, her erect nipples that have become so hard because of the cold and lust, her veins on her neck and on her temples that pop out because of the excitement and the blood rush to her head, her lips that tremble as she exhales and the rain drops that run down her rather firm thighs blending with her juices. It is time.

He slowly reaches her from behind, she must be prepared for the feast. He first ties her eyes; no more light in her world. It heightens the sensation of every single nerve ending under her skin and gives her imagination infinite freedom to run wild. He then puts the ball gag in her mouth, as she obeys without the slightest hesitation. No more screams allowed, all the pain, all the pleasure, all the raging emotions, all the burning lust trapped under her skin only to explode in her mind until he has used and abused her.



He proceeds to cuff her hands, her legs, then chains her to a steel pole by her neck. They are her favorite jewels for a night like this. They adorn her. They keep her in her place. They let her know she has a master and that she has no control.

She is a slave to this feeling of absolute helplessness, as it allows her to reach heights of overflowing pleasure that she would otherwise not let herself go. She yearns to be controlled, to be teased, to be pleased, to be pained, to be pleasured, to be ravaged, to be raped. She longs for her wildest fantasies to come true. And above all, she yearns the release and the freedom she finds in her cuffs and chains.

She is finally ready, to be the bride of his twisted dreams, to live her own secret fantasies, what she yearns for, what she longs for, for she is a woman, and she has the right, to own the darkest and most perverse of all fantasies.

V.