Tuesday 9 July 2013

Chapter 3: One Subjective Reality


Realism, the art to depict things of a visual, social or emotional nature accurately. Thinking realistically requires the individual to think objectively and seclude the mind from the heart. Reality can be seen as the state of things as they actually exist as a whole. However, our reality can be seen as what we see and what we see is the product of our choice of action.
Think about it, by going out and experiencing our today, by opening up the newspaper and reading something new about the world,  by conversing and knowing a new fact about your social group or other people; we chose to be apart of that. We chose to read the newspaper or we chose to go out and live today. That becomes our reality, the product of the choices we make every day. Hence, our reality can be different to someone else's reality and therefore our way of thinking of this world will be different to how others see this world.

By taking this into perspective, you could either be disgusted or praiseful to see a white, male cab driver holding a fire arm against my forehead while demanding I lay on the ground with the back of head buried against the concrete floor declaring, 'I'll kill the lot of you, fucking disgusting terrorists!' For some, this action is absolutely loathsome but for others it would be an agreeable act. For me, well myself personally, I was pissing my pants thinking what the fuck is going on! While at the same time thinking why did I have to be the Pakistani, Muslim Asian sitting with a pissed off at my type of people cab driver.

Readers, one thing you have to know about me is that when I'm in an uncomfortable situation, I tend to become a lot more humorous than usual. So the first thing I said was,
'Dude! I mean sir, listen man I'm not a terrorist I swear! I mean I don't even have a proper beard, look there's bum fluff on my cheeks. Bloody hell I have a girlfriend! Please..'
'SHUT UP!' The cab driver shouted while waving his gun as if it were a part of his body that he had absolute control over.
'When I kill you, all your little terrorist friends will know that we can kill too so not to mess with us. HA, I'd love to see your beloved Osama Bin Fucker bomb me now! Oh wait, he's dead because we won! By killing you, I'm only following the act of God so don't think I'm taking revenge over what you Paki's, Iraqi's or wherever the fuck you terrorists like to huddle up at did with our people. It's not revenge when it's the will of God, right?'

I realised that Jacob, the supposed cab driver, was kind of unintentionally asking me whether what he was doing was right. Then I realised what I was doing. Succumbing to fear is like letting go of everything you believe in only to survive in any means necessary. See, fear can lead to a person hating that reason of fear. If left unsolved, that fear can turn into this deep dark hatred for everything related to it. At that time, I had no clue of this one single reality of this individual.

This reality began with Jacob's mother and sister taking a stroll down the city of London. His sister wanted to buy a gift for Jacob's birthday and she had no clue what to get him. His mother was convinced she knew the perfect gift for him and that it could be bought from Alfie's Antique Market located near Edgware road train station.  Jacob and his mum were really close, so close even that he still felt the need to eat dinner made by his mum even though he had a place of his own and his own beloved family to take care of. His parents were so proud of him in becoming a successful police officer and that smile he saw from his family only made him stronger in all ways. That unfortunate day, a bomb went off at that very train station and a few other places. Jacob lost his sister and his mother in one go, that very event was known as 7/7 and he was one of those people who lost his everything. That fear of losing the remains of his family led to hatred. A hatred that could only be dissolved through an act of revenge. Revenge that slowly crept onto his soul, forcing him to lose his position as a police officer and made him a cab driver only so he could still feed his wife and children. Revenge against those 'supposed' extreme Muslims that caused him to lose nearly everything.

When I did learn the reason for this hatred later, I began to fear and if I had not resolved this fear in my heart, that fear could have probably turned into hate and that hate could have made me become that Jacob holding that firearm to someone else's forehead. Who knows, If I had thought of violence as the best solution for revenge, I could have been those 'supposed' extreme Muslims causing chaos only because my reality told me that it was the right thing to do. If I had thought differently to what I did, I could have easily said to myself that the only way to get rid of those who hate me when I am not the reason for their hate, to make my life easier I must get rid of those who made my life difficult to live in the first place. The ripple effect.

And so, going back to that dark alley way where the taxi cab had been parked. Where two figures were hidden within the shadows of the walls. Where one figure stood underneath the moon while the other laid down with his eyes closed. Where a sign post with an arrow pointing in a direction read, 'Edgware road tube station' firmly held to the ground. Where a firearm camouflaged with the darkness and where the fast nervous breathing could be heard in the dead silence if there was anyone to hear it. The cab driver said smirking,
'This won't hurt a bit. Who knows, I might get lucky and it might hurt a lot.'

I kept my eyes closed, tensed every part of my body, controlled every breath I took and finally prayed to God, 'If this is how it's going to be, I want you to know I'm yours. You gave me life and now only you have the power and right to take it. From the beginning till the end I will only pray to you.' And in Arabic I slowly said, 'There is only one God and Muhammad (P.B.U.H) is his messenger.'

With the click of a gun and the hatred he had sowed and the loud bang that made even insects hide in their homes. I lay quietly on the ground while I bathed in blood. My eyes opened wide and saw another reality extinguish one.

Written By,

Jawaad Saleem

(P.B.U.H - Peace Be Upon Him)

No comments:

Post a Comment