To be honest, I have spent many a night tossing and turning, deeply disturbed by the atrocities I see in the news, or in real life. I’m working remotely from my parents house in India right now as I write this, and the plight of domestic help here – the drivers, maids, cooks, gardeners, and other laborers – is a dark cloud that hovers over me constantly. The inhumane hours they work, the conditions they are made to live in, and the pittance they are paid to serve others who ignorantly and selfishly live for their own comforts tortures me daily. For those living here, these kinds of conditions are normal, and I am viewed as an interfering outsider if I try to voice my thoughts. So I keep quiet, but no one knows how affected I am by the inhumanity that surrounds me. And this is just one of the many atrocities I think about, I’m not even venturing into acid attack victims, animalistic rapes, homeless refugees, and utterly heartbreaking child labor and abuse. The last one in particular can have me weeping in seconds as I think of my beautiful nieces and nephews when I view the sad faces of exploited children.
Furthermore, the kinds of adversities that humans undergo almost seem trivial compared to the torture and pain that animals endure – whether through our greedy domination or at the ruthless hands of Mother Nature.
As you can well see, I am as hardcore a pessimist as you will ever find. If pessimism could be ranked from 1 to 10, I’d be a 99. I try to hide it for the most part, since no one really wants to hear about it. Understandably everyone is already struggling with their cross, and they want ways to make it lighter and more bearable, not heavier. No one wants to hang out with the grey donkey in the corner.
