It is a borderless world, I learnt. A poet once said that it is a shoreless flood, which in its ebb and flow clasps the limit of morality. A philosopher once said that it is a boundless infinity, suppressing the Heavens and Hades. Why, then is the great Plato’s vision of a global village fast vanishing? Ravages, ruins, roads that lead nowhere, are but of our own making.
When you see suffering, it is not the suffering of a white, black or yellow man it is the suffering of a faceless humanity, I learnt.
Whence came the boundaries, the lines of rules, divisions? They are but of our own making… of the making of the ruthless ‘monarchs’.
When mothers weep for dead sons, it is the tears of all humanity, when children are orphaned in Syria, it’s the pain of all humanity. When soldiers die fighting, it is the shame of all humanity. Then why is it that ‘monarchs’ play games of exploitation and diplomacy… they shatter the foundations of this world.
The world is no man’s land, all men stand equal before God, nature is the privilege of any who discovers it, I learnt. But I saw the Eagle come along and say ‘I am the monarch of all that I survey’. The world transformed.
The New world has land demarcations, immigration laws and visas. I cross a border and I do not exist without a passport.
Did I not learn that white is paler than red? Then why is the paper document more important that human flesh? Should I be expected to prove that I am human?
Dostoyevsky once said that the second half of a half of a lifetime is nothing more than a repetition of the first half. The child of the New world begs to differ. For I was taught that it is a borderless world, but I learn now that it is not.
