Written by: Ruhan Anjan Kartik

When I was ten years old, I wrote this poem about a world I wished for. A utopia of equality and peace and joy. This is the poem I wrote:

I wish there was…

Welcome to a world, 

where your mind can rest in peace, 

no sorrow can breach your skin, 

no spec of dirt to feel lost, 

no emotion with a negative sting, 

no feeling to pierce your heart, 

no vengeance to take you over, 

with no song to bring no joy. 

Only, 

a melody soft and calming to you, 

a smile which other emotions succumb too, 

a cry of joy and happy tears, 

and creative and supportive through all the years. 

With no thoughts of discrimination. 

no judgement made by the colour of your skin, 

no ideas shared if it contained negativity, 

no difference if you’re ugly or pretty. 

no war to torture your mind, 

no deceit in the air, 

no poverty to quell your positive thoughts, 

and nothing in you that ever rots.

***

Today I wish to reflect upon it in the context of our political climate. I do not wish to alter its message or optimism, rather challenge its reality and context at a deeper level. That message of a ten-year-old has a purpose to shape a story, however our story is far different from the one initially imagined and perceived. This following poem titled ‘Reputation’ does not rebuke this outlook, but provides an evolved perspective.

Reputation

Assimilation is at the root of our realpolitik,

An excuse of unwillingness to mend the disillusionment of our institutions,

Because whether we like it or not,

A man’s reputation is our story,

And a woman’s perceived incompetence is too.

Our skies are still blue and our oceans vast,

Our forests still beautiful yet our rivers flow in the dark.

As we walk through the trails, we meet upon a crossroads,

The road not taken still remains untouched.

We walk in the footsteps of those before,

The climate untethered and hostile,

Yet the skies that tower above,

Unwilling to yield but a sigh.

We jump over the fallen trees in our path,

Their stories forgotten with time,

However, there are few marked with kind words,

So that their memory may shine bright.

The ground below them is dark and unnatural,

Secrets and pain hidden in plain sight,

Yet our own volition chooses to ignore these signs,

As it is safer to continue without demise.

As the sun sets upon our journey,

We make peace with our plight.

Indifference fills our painful souls,

But tomorrow we shall fight.