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Alvor Sunset by Blazko http://blazko.deviantart.com/ |
In the horizon of a clear night
sky, Jakarta
from afar glows like a mythical pot of gold.
Like a fabulous treasure defended
and paraded by malignant spirits, only that there rarely is honest-to-goodness
treasure there, and strange and ill-formed beings are more common.
Far away in a poor dark hamlet,
restive hearts can see the golden glow goading them of an otherwise life. Where
do their desires lie, when they see such a tempting sight? What are they
thinking, when this land-locked Lorelei beckons?
It's not unfathomable that their hearts are comfortably beating to the rhythm of the siren song harping about a better world made of riches and wealth. A song that breaks them from their families, tears them from the motherland.
Following this cruel, demented
tune can sometimes drive them mad, as unforeseen sufferings and entrapments
force them into a dark labyrinth of half-truths for their own safety. In these
pre-occupations to not die through suffering, they can be frozen in time by the
Medusa-like stare of their poisonous past. They cannot rid themselves of the
recurring horror they experience through their internal gaze, and they remain
entrapped in the cinema of their own horror.
Some with more guile shape-shift
themselves to avoid being hunted down by their dark and debilitating past. True
associations are avoided, to avert from meeting their past reality, to deny the
innocent present from being contaminated with the past. The life of being other
than themselves seems more worth living, than their own history-laden lives.
What started out with a hazy
dream of a better life turns into a nightmare for not only the sufferer, but
usually also for their families. Husbands and children, father and mother, are
no longer recognized, cannot be recognized, as their reality is not of the
present reality in the sufferer's mind. The parents, husband and children
suffer too, for their family is seemingly torn apart, and the gaping wound
seems impossible to heal, impossible to be forgotten and overcome. All are in grief,
or grieving for the other. And daily, thousands follow this dance macabre in
the hope of not experiencing the same fate, hope against all hope.
This gold rush is not sparked by
the allure of gold itself, but because of a dire lack, a hunger that threatens
to overwhelm them where they are. They suffer the lack of meaningful work, the
lack of a way out of the grinding, burdensome poverty. And what they suffer is
partly put on them, shackles that are a result of riches seeking to multiply
itself irresponsibly, riches that see no other value other than gains in
itself.
There is always an alternative.
But this is not always true for individuals. However, it is true for a society.
And as a society, we cannot be ignorant of our own tainted hands playing this opera
of the damned. When we leave others to suffer their so-called
"fates", we have indeed actually condemned them, alienated them from
ourselves. A moral life, is a life that can only be lived through the body of
one society, not through our individual lives. Because a moral life is about
the care of the other. And if we do not include the others, there is no
morality - we have just declared our consciences bankrupt.
So, there is always a choice. We
do have a choice, all of us. But do we always have to make the choice alone?
Are we ever alone in our choices? Perhaps we owe it to ourselves to know who we
make choices for - and in turn be aware of how others make choices that affects
us as well. All the little people - like the ants and small insects of the forest
- if they were to alienate themselves from our world, would we be able to
survive? But on the other hand, can we still continue to live the way we live
now?
That particular choice might not
be for us to make. Nature seems to be showing its judgment on us. Our own
success has doomed our futures. Or have we really gone to the point of no
return? For all that we have allowed to happen, we have allowed to be a
non-choice, perhaps we still have time to make a choice, to turn back the
clock. For all our sakes, I hope that choice is still there.
