Heal This Broken World Please

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I thought I understand this world but, it turns out I truly don’t. After a series of life changing experiences, I secretly prided myself that I get it. I know what this life is all about. That the meaning of life depends on what its means to you. That the question of life is unique to each individual. That your life is how you project yourself into your reality. That everything takes place in your brain. That each decision in choosing the path you take is the result of how you process your life experiences in your mind. That you have a choice how your future will shape up.

I have been living in a bubble of bliss ever since I met the love of my life. Our life together remained harmonious and happy for more than six years. Life is beautiful. Full of sunshine and laughters,inside our home. But the longer I live in this kind of misty existence, the longer I cannot ignore the chaos outside; the violence and hatred that filled the streets; greed and selfishness that lurk in every corner. Unhappiness exists. Evil exists. And they weigh heavily upon whatever it is that is beautiful in this world.

Somewhere a child as young as two gets molested and murdered, by her own kin. Where was her choice to shape her life? Did her death had any meaning or significance other than being in the headlines of today’s newspapers? If she belongs to a poor family it will cause a brief sensation and outrage, and then it will eventually fade away from people’s minds because that is just the way things are. Life is like that. And everybody has accepted that for a fact. There is nothing one can do.

I know that the history of the world is replete with stories of violence, reaching as far back as the stories of survival among our cave men ancestors. That over and over again mankind slaughtered each other for pride, greed and glory. However, I cannot get over the fact that until now, after hundreds of years we still haven’t learn how to live together peacefully. With all the high technological inventions brilliant minds are capable of inventing , nobody has ever figure out a way, a formula, a solution, on how not to hurt each other. I sound naive, I know. Like a child who believes in fairies and Santa Claus. Who believes good always triumphs over evil. But why should I not. Why should we accept that evil naturally exists in our lives?Around us?

Through out my life I explored the lowest depth of depravity human beings are capable of sinking into.Some in personal encounters and some from reading a lot of books. As a young child I do not understand evil. I fear it as one might fear ghosts and vampires, but true evil I have not been a witness to. I grew up protected and loved. But I sensed evil lurking in the corner every time I opened the television and watched the news. Every time I eavesdrop in whispered conversations between adults. I feared it so much I was curious about it. I read a lot of Edgar Allan Poe stories and tried to desensitize my self from this dark abstract thing that terrorizes everyone. It didn’t work. It puzzled me as to what drives man to extreme depravity and perversity. In college I got hold of the book Brother’s Karamazov by Dostoevsky. It plunged me down the fevered brain of Ivan Fyodorovich Karamazov. In his passionate search for the meaning of good and evil which nearly drove him insane. From an arms length I thought I was beginning to understand. The book left me with an impression that men are slaves to their appetites. But is it really an unescapable truth? Are we going to continually blame our animal instincts?

My first real experience with violence was when I was in high school. It was horrific and I could not forget about it. I remember it was the beginning of summer. Humidity was high and choking. The classes for that year were just wrapping up.I was not really paying attention to my teacher anymore. I was feeling drowsy. It was around three in the afternoon and all I wanted then was to take a nap. Our teacher sat down behind her desk in front of the class, and told us to read the rest of the lesson in our text books. All heads were bent when suddenly ripping the sleepy silence of the classroom were loud shrieks and wailing coming from the room opposite us. The screams were chilling. We all rushed to the windows of our room to check what was happening. We saw a man calmly walking out from the room. He was carrying a bloodied knife. His shirt also stained with blood. Two male teachers standing outside the hallway stared at him as if in a daze. Paralyzed. Nobody apprehended him. Nobody stopped him as he disappeared from our view. When he was out of sight, somebody called for help. My classmates and I were gripped with fear while our teacher tried to keep us calm. My friends, embracing each other hid in a corner, shaking and crying. We could hear the students from the other room crying hysterically as the students and other teachers rushed the lifeless body of a pregnant teacher, soaked in blood, towards the waiting ambulance. It was gory and all too real for me. It was a revenge too gruesome to comprehend. I had nightmares for weeks. I kept wondering what were the actions and decisions the teacher had taken that led her life to a bloody end.

I processed the sequence of events that took place before the murder in my mind like a detective would to help me cope with the trauma of witnessing evil first hand that day. I turned it over in my mind over and over again to find sense in it. I applied physics into the situation instead of karma. Karma, for me was a defeatist way of looking into it because her punishment was too severe for the transgression she committed. I cannot just shrug it off and say it must have been her Karma. That is too cruel.

I looked at it as a result of an action that triggered a sequence of motions toward one direction that inevitably resulted to murder. That was how I comforted myself then. I did not feel any better. But looking back, murder was not necessarily the inevitable end to that story.

The man who killed Mrs. D, a history teacher, was the father of one my classmates. She was a nice girl that showed no indication she came from a dysfunctional family. I will call her Anna. Not her real name of course. My friends and I once had lunch in their home where her mother, also a nice woman, cooked for us a very delicious meal. Anna’s sister, Beth was a senior in high school. We were juniors at that time. Beth’s boyfriend was the brother of Mrs. D. His name was Anthony. According to what people whispered about after the incident, Anthony had gotten Beth pregnant, and expressed a wish to marry her after graduation. When they confessed their situation to Anthony’s family however, his sister, the teacher, vehemently opposed Anthony’s decision to marry Beth. Beth’s family was poor and Anthony came from a snobbish family of professors, doctors and lawyers. They had big plans for Anthony. It was said that Mrs.D spewed a lot of degrading words against Beth’s family and it had reached her father’s ear. I didn’t know Mrs. D that well but what ever she might have said that day, for me doesn’t justify how she was punished. She was six moths pregnant at that time.

This is just one example of extreme hatred and violence I unfortunately witnessed in my life, there are plenty more but this post is not about that because this type of darkness confronts us everyday from everywhere, all around us. There is no relief from it. I do not need to recount more horrors to drive my point across. This post is about questioning why it exits. Why it continues to exists. Why is it getting worse. Now that we are living in the era of ‘enlightened minds’ why are we all helpless to curb it? What is the use of living a beautiful life in a world continuously choosing to be ugly?

Copyright 2013JMKhapra

21 thoughts on “Heal This Broken World Please

  1. The like is to signify that I have read this, not that it was a “yeah that was fun” kind of like.

    What people do sometimes is completely depraved and there are no reasons for it. Just because someone badmouths your family is no reason to take a life.

    It is even possible that Mrs D hadn’t even intended it the way it came it across. Gossip changes from person to person, bits added, essential bits removed. It would have been so much better to TALK first. Taking a life is .. WRONG

    1. Thank you Alastair for taking the time to read it. I appreciate. Lately I have been immersed in reading about so many atrocities that are happening around the world that I can’t help but feel affected and I am almost losing the sight of what is beautiful in this world. One cannot just be happy and ignore the suffering all around.

  2. Life is hard and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense…all of us…even the righteous…fall short of God’s standards. It needs a change of heart away from ourselves. Even otherwise good people are in training, so to speak—but morality is not enough! Looking inside yourself is not enough! πŸ™‚ That is why I am a Christian. No other way deals with the heart on the inside, and allows God to use even the bad to bring us and them to the good.

    1. Thank you Jonathan, how I wish our faiths can cure all the ills in the world… I avoided the topic purposely as my opinion about the matter is not that cohesive yet.

  3. I studied Buddhism and hence karma for a time. From that perspective, the karma of both the victim and perpetrator in your story would have accumulated over many lifetimes, not just this one.

    Personally, I could never bring myself to believe in reincarnation, somehow.

    However, it is also a Buddhist teaching that those who hurt others are to be deeply pitied, as they are hurting themselves far worse. I try to go there, when I get confused and upset by the actions of others. The more heinous the act, the harder I find that. But it does help to keep one’s heart and sense of love relatively intact.

    Does that make sense?

    Of course, I also avoid the news.

    I heard a story once about a tribe in the Amazon, I believe, and the first time they heard a radio. There was news that related to a bus crashing, with several deaths. The tribe all felt incredible grief, stopped what they were doing, as was the custom, and went into mourning practice for several weeks.

    There is something so beautiful, in that, to me. And a lesson, too, although I am not quite sure what it is.

    My goodness, I really had a lot to say! I apologize for my lack of brevity.

    1. Hi! I am a big fan of your writing! The stories and your writing style. It speaks to me. I adore the women in your stories. I am thrilled to find a comment from you on one of my posts. πŸ™‚

      I wrote this piece after immersing on a month long reading about several abuses and violence taking place around the world. I was deeply affected. I became depressed. I feel for the helpless. And I thought how can people just go on prancing about happily with their lives while this is happening around us. It doesn’t feel right to me. One can’t just ignore it. I do understand human nature but I guess it must some kind of a childish frustration asking why can t everybody just do the right thing, that is not to hurt another person. But I also know the vicious circle of violence is often Unbreakable and influential people don’t really care enough to stop it, faith helps a little but not always. I don’t know. I do not think there is an answer to this problem. I have purged cynicism out of my system, I want to live in a better world.

      1. thank you so much for your kind words.

        (i suddenly hope that you will not one day be disappointed by my characters!)

        it feels rare to meet someone who is as sensitive to the experience of others as you are.

        personally, i think it is beautiful that the process of desensitization did not take for you. i hope that is a quality that you cherish in yourself.

        i hope you continue to write about it. i am particularly curious about the line “faith helps a little” and what that means to you.

        1. I am sure I wil never be disappointed with whatever you will write. I have read each and every story you have posted and I really like them all. Among my favorites are, the one with the professor with a dog who is sensitive about the mentally retarded haha. I have also met someone like that. What a phony!, Read me and the most recent one Seb. I will be waiting for your book!

          Thank you. πŸ™‚ . I am not sure I like being like this. It is difficult for someone with this kind of disposition to live happily in this world.

          I do have a lot to say about faith and maybe I will write about it when I find the right words to express myself.

          Have a great week ahead! I’m pleased to have found your blog. πŸ™‚

  4. hello… this is a very interesting and honest musing about the world and about life – a well-thought out and thoughtful piece. thanks for sharing… warm regards πŸ™‚ ~ san

  5. I do not believe in karma, but i see there is something as perpetual action.

    Any act of ‘evil’ is always seen from only that ‘good’ perspective, while from the perspective of the evil doer, it becomes the opposite.

    There are only two causes for these kind of things:
    (1) is the conflict between reality and how reality should or should not be. This conflict must have arisen in the evil doer, but later also in the victim and everyone around her.
    (2) is ignorance, not in the least ignorance about (1). Ignorance is not to be solved easily. There will always be people who have got the age of an adult without having the ethics and emotional intelligence of the adult.

    1. I know you are right and I understand what you are saying. I know I am being illogical on my wish that violence should stop to exist, I do understand the root of it but I just can’t take it anymore. It is so difficult for me to express what is this nagging feeling in heart. My mind is stubbornly refusing this reality.

      1. Yah, I feel this when reading newspaper articles on severe cases of child abuse or extreme violence too.
        I protect myself by not reading things that do not concern me directly, neither do I watch TV news.

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