Insensitive

We often call the world a small place. I disagree. The world is huge and has invisible jets that douse flames before they even cast a shadow on my life. For instance, just a few miles from here, electrified houses live in darkness for 14 hours a day, while I crib for not having geysers in the bathroom.

Barely 6 months ago, terrorist groups detonated two powerful bombs in Varanasi, one of them hardly a kilometre away from me. 30 people were killed. Here’s what I did- For a few fleeting moments, I was shocked at the loss of life. As I returned to the university, I shuddered to think of the fate of survivors and their kin. I also said a silent prayer- something I do when chapters outnumber minutes before exams (a rare occurrence with the ‘sincere’ Akshay).

An hour later, I was listening to Pink Floyd and mocking the terrorists for wasting their ammunition on Varanasi. This shows not only that I’m pretty insensitive, but also that no distance is too small and no disaster too close. You’re either at ground zero or far away from it. If events in my city can’t shake a hair, what about the violence in Lebanon and Sri Lanka? Global conflicts start and end with newspaper articles, which eventually end up wiping dusty chairs or wet bike seats.

I don’t want to bring you round to my point of view. In fact, I’m not very clear about it myself. Still, this came to me as a passing thought, and scribbling down thoughts is the only way out for premature Alzheimer’s patients like me.