I am a student. During the day I attend my classes at the university. In the evenings I study, while late till night I deliver food on the door steps.
Life is not easy, yet there is no time to complain.
Like a bull fetching well water, I have little choice of changing my direction.
Being an outstanding student, I have high hopes that this time too will pass. That I will emerge as an honest and successful businessman.
That was until late one night, I had to deliver food to a far off deserted place. I felt a call of duty to deliver it well in time, to keep it piping hot, to perhaps be lucky to get some tip for making it in the middle of night, in cold and frosty weather.
By sheer luck, my tip was brutality. I met with deeper rage for being slightly late. There was so much anger piled up in those three men. They were high on drugs and there was no one around to hear my call. In a fit, they started hitting me with all their might.
Initially I could feel the pain of the blow, the sharpening cutting pain of the knife, the blow of fists and the knock of a metal on the skull.
Yet soon, time lost its function. I was left mercilessly in the frosted darkness that surrounded me.
My customers were now enjoying the warm food I delivered for them, while I was floating in void between life and death.
I stopped moaning like an animal and felt the wave after wave of my spirit leaving my body.
The worst part of all was there was no one around to say farewell as I was leaving for my eternal abode.
The time slipped my hands like a slippery soap, yet the burden, the pain, the terror, the cruelty did not leave my spirit.
My spirit roamed around in unease, in restlessness and distortion waiting for justice to be done.
And then I heard the assuring voice talking to my parents.
The voice of a lawyer who reassured them, to not fear, not hide anymore.
He told them to leave the sensitivity, to be brave, to fight with all their might against the brutality.
He told them to let the world see how they felt.
He was no less than a miracle, almost as if he was representing me.
He was good with judgement, analysis, research, ruling and communication.
He stood by the side of my parents all the time.
He fought like a brave soldier, worked like a labourer and wrote like a writer.
I felt that victory, that freedom and strength in my spirit when justice prevailed.
I inhaled deeply in relief and how I wished for every living person or dead; a silent victim to have someone represent them.
Be it a life partner, a friend, a family member, or a lawyer.
Who stood by their side, when they couldn’t stand up for them self anymore.
Who represented them and fought for them when need be.
On times, when most of the people who surround them are often oddly silent.