A Blank Stare
Several years ago, I had
the wonderful opportunity to work on a global health project. As with all
international travel, the lessons and experiences were priceless. Towards the
end of the trip I learned about “accepted” cultural practices that deeply saddened
me. Namely, there was systemic abuse at essentially all levels in the region. These
abuses were directed towards the vulnerable and weak. In most cases the victims
were single or widowed women. One of the stories that was shared with me was
that of a mother (widowed) who could not sustain her family financially. In
order to cover expenses, she had to “pimp out” her daughter. Unfortunately,
this had become common practice in that society.
After hearing the stories
and confirming with others, I did what I could to support the victims and to voice
my opposition. But I had so many questions in my head. How can this exist in
our modern world? Where were the human rights people? Where were the women’s rights
people? Where were the feminists? Why was this portion of earth forgotten or
never on the radar by those who claim to fight against oppression and for
freedom?
In a way, I was not
surprised by the lack of importance and attention given to this region.
Especially given that our country has a centuries old history of slavery and acceptance
of this abuse and oppression. These questions and thoughts inflamed my heart. I
knew as we traveled back to the safety of our homes, those victims could not
feel this same emotional or physical comfort.
More recently, I was reflecting
on what could cause a society to reach this level of abuse and “acceptance”. In
most instances, the apparent answer I found was war. In particular, the abuse
of the vulnerable and weak was a consistent and forgotten consequence of war.
This consequence is seen immediately and sadly persists long after the conflict
has ended. History is witness to this. But what is the root cause of war? In
short, it is greed, addiction to power and control. All of these are diseases
of the heart.
In order to prevent abuse
of the weak, those with diseased (weak) hearts need to declare war on their
hearts rather than on others.
I wrote this poem (see
below) as a dedication to all victims of oppression on the flight back home
from that trip. I hope it will be of benefit and encouragement for all of us to
reflect and cleanse our hearts.
A blank stare
They say the eyes are the
windows to the soul
In your case it is
probably just a void, a hole.
Of a childhood that was
taken away,
you had no say.
Grew up too fast because
you were considered
the lowest part of the
caste.
Thus, mandating a grievous
task.
You just wanted to be
chaste
But he took advantage of
your situation.
A nation filled with
subjugation of a population
A numbing sensation,
racing,
through your body.
The eyes are weeping,
too many demons,
too many hurtful seasons,
heart screaming,
'hide me'
But nobody is hearing,
your screaming.
You are reaching,
out for help but no hand
no feeling,
leaving,
you with...
A blank stare,
eyes filled with despair,
but cannot share,
will not dare,
the consequences are too
much to bear.
Even if someone indeed
cares.
Too much pain and
suffering,
your silence is deafening,
there is definitely
something,
even if you cannot say
anything.
Your eyes speak louder than
words.
The black in them is
reflecting a light,
bright (er)
than the surrounding
white.
Glowing like a full moon
in the sky,
screaming,
I want to be free, I want
to fly.
Sigh,
the glimmer of hope seems
to fade to die,
as reality comes by.
And the sun refuses to
rise, why?
A blank stare,
eyes filled with despair,
but cannot share,
will not dare,
the consequences are too
much to bear.
Even if someone indeed
cares.
Too much pain and
suffering,
your silence is deafening,
there is definitely
something,
even if you do not say.
Listen... hey.
No worries, the oppressors
will have their day,
they will pay.
Sooner or later they will
wish they were just dirt
or clay.
At that time the sun will
rise and shine,
a hint of the divine,
you will see the ray,
chasing away...
The weeping, the demons,
the hurtful seasons,
heart will no longer be
screaming.
No more blank stares,
eyes no longer filled with
despair,
can share,
will dare,
no consequences to bear.
Death has come to this
nightmare.
They say, the eyes are the
windows to the soul,
in your case it is a
beautiful glow,
like the full moon in the
middle of the night,
far away from city lights.
Victory is in sight,
no... rather,
you have won the fight.
Nasser Kashou
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