Dyspeptalk #13

“Sometimes it’s just easier not to acknowledge that things are not the same.
At this moment, a rare species of singing cicadas are crossing the line into extinction far away in the mossy underbelly of Central Amazonian rainforests.

At this moment, a hundred Bangladeshi social activists and writers and bloggers are changing their names, changing their houses, hiding from neighbours who know what they do. A hundred Bangladeshi artists are painting with hurried strokes, writers are writing their final testaments, bloggers are posting details of the threats their lives bear.
Another blogger hacked to death in his own home while his wife and son remained locked in adjoining rooms, and religious fundamentalists are unfurling banners of their beliefs on the minds of the common man. The air smells of disbelief and segregation suddenly.
You start suspecting the person who prays everyday, you start suspecting the person who doesn’t pray at all.

Four bloggers have died already, some hacked to death in broad daylight on the streets of Dhaka, some in their own houses. The cost of speaking your mind suddenly weighs too heavy on your conscience. The non-believers are cornered, the atheists are cornered, the liberal minded are cornered, the free thinkers are cornered.
What starts as a random act of violence, slowly gathers the momentum of a rolling stone, suddenly threatens to crush us all.
How little shall we speak, how low shall we stoop?

In this moment, an entire species of Cicadas are being silenced.
In this moment, an entire community of men and women are being silenced too.

We are drifting seamlessly in an ether of misogyny and cynicism, cutting from news of spilled guts to food festivals to religious propagandas to selfie quotations, till the very repercussions of our morality feels as unreal as the society.
One by one, the singing is dying down.
One by one, the atheists-conservatives-liberals-free thinking-educated-progressive, are cornered and slaughtered.
Fundamentalists are coming in the open with proclamation of who they killed and why, while you and I delete blogs, sell houses, flee countries, hide in rented basements.
One by one, the rainforests is becoming a hauntingly quiet place to be at.

Yeh khamoshi humari nahi.
Yeh khamoshi jhooti hai.”

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