The cup of tea burned gently against my palms as I sat down on the veranda. The puffy steam curled up in gentle wiggles before vanishing in front of my eyes while my palms screamed ever so slightly. I was used to it. 

If this was in a movie, perhaps a vast expanse of glistening Ocean could be the scenery that meets my eyes and the gentle crashing of waves against the sand could be the music to which I could stare into the horizon while the wind blows my hair in perfect waves. If this was a movie this is the moment my love interest could suddenly emerge to sweep me off my feet and look deeply into my eyes before we ran into the sunset for a happy ever after.

Except this was not in a movie. 

So the scenery that meets my eye was the walls of deteriorating buildings, stained, peeling, and moss-covered. It was as if the building itself was revolting against the monsters they shelter unwillingly within themselves. So close in proximity that I could jump over to the side if I was daring enough. The music I heard was the bellowing chants of the protesters in the streets.

 You know what they are protesting.

I would have been able to see them too. The way cars could swerve into the lane furthest from the groups. Families close their windows to not hear about the injustice they roar about. Their voices engulfed with fury, hoarse from continuous use but still echoing through the streets, as deafening to the ears as the first cry as. Some bystanders will take pictures and post them. But when he’s out of reach, he will flick their chants away from his brain faster than a person who found an elachi in their biryani.

You wonder why they waste their time when they haven’t seen a change in years.

You feel so hopeless; it happened before and it appears that, against all odds, it will happen again.

The thing is, you are right. The incidents are a thread that binds thousands together. People across borders, ethnicity, seas, and ages; this heinous crime transcended time and space. 

However, you can’t look at the battles that our ancestors fought and say they were all for nothing. Although times seem bleak and our efforts futile, you need to understand that we don’t need hope, we need trust. Trust in the fact that progress has only one direction and that’s forward. The path is an ever-evolving road we build from the ground up, the beacon of experience and past mistakes lighting the way.

3 steps forward and 2 steps back is still one step ahead of where we once were.

Written By: Asma E Mohima

Edited By: Anusriya Rahman Ornie