India, how have we forgotten you? Once upon a time there was an industrial revolution and we were consumed by bits and pieces. We were blinded by pollution. Our mothers and fathers, they lost their way among the skyscrapers. They couldn’t see past the glistening gleam of the lights but they never meant to lose their direction. No, that route was a governmental creation. Each mile marked by a commercial enterprise, each turn carved by a little green paper known for its endless elation. They never understood the path they were taking or the lives they were breaking. You have our coca cola and our blue jeans too. Yet when it comes to your children and your women and other recluses, we drown our guilt in labels and excuses. Oh India, I hope we can remember you while we still have the chance. Years of oppression continue and I can feel all of that hate.
India, what about equality? There are only so many lives that can be pulled from a violent ocean. Your women must be free from their gold shackles and released from their jeweled prisons. Even the richest of the rich are as poor as the poorest because they are not permitted inside or out to explore. Bound by a 2,000 year old tradition, their minds and their bodies are limited to exclusion. Morphing and molding and melding and welding- change is the only way to end this undue intrusion. All of these possibilities for societal advancement are forced to float lifeless in limbo- a place that exists somewhere between the earth and sky and was created by an unknown mind and an unseen eye. Oh India, please help us save your women and perpetuate the futures of your children. You can still revise your present to secure your fate.
India, do you know how much you have taught me? If I could hold your pain in the palm of my hand, I would fall into the ground and forever remain under the land. I know now that what I believe is real and what is real is the truth. There was a time when I existed in a world of deception, where I was taught to think that happiness is a right and for everyone life is about perfection. Then I went on a journey with you as my destination. I arrived and soon understood that poverty doesn’t promote delight and starvation ends in a certain and brutal fight. Oh India, you opened my mind and slipped a simple reminder inside. You told me never to forget what I saw and to spread the truth before it’s too late.
5 comments:
hi jamie , i can't believe that no one has commented on this segment of your blog. i think you left us all speechless. absolute poetry on such a sad country,yet there must be beauty and sensitivity too.such great literature and cinema comes out of india. did you experience another side? vlove you lots n&b
heavy, jamie, really heavy, you are going to love that movie I told you about, "The Namesake." PU hosted a Harry Potter convention yesterday, it was amazing, world renowned professors teaching kids about chemistry, plants, animals, etc. and the kids lapping it up and smiling. If only school could be like that!
Sometimes we are too overwhelmed by the reading in the blogs to keep up with them all. This is no excuse, just life, I guess.
I kept your link on the desktop so it would not be lost in the sea of blogs...and just read your India piece.
Yes, even in the best of circumstance, and in many of the countries you will see, what you have felt will be the same.
Semester at Sea is an eye opener to the world for anyone who is there, was there, and will be there.
from an alum
you are such a talented writer! i am amazed every time i read your work.
Jamie, you have talent keep feeding it.
But remember either side of the coin "How a frog gets to die, it is not in putting it in boiling water for in doing so it would immediatly jump out but in putting it in cold water and turning the heat on that way the frog does'nt realize it is being cooked and slowly dies."
Dominique( Tiffany Neal's mom)
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