This is no ordinary blog post. There is not a single shot of coffee in this post. This is no highlight reel. There is no aspiration here. There’s nothing perfect here. Just these words. That mean nothing more than what I’m saying. But maybe this would surprise you, because this is not a post about me. This is a post about you. No, not you on your smartphone sipping your coffee looking out the window. No, not you relaxing in the sunlight taking a drag from your cigarette, not even you sitting at your desk on your lunch break with the news tab open on your desktop. No. This is about the other you. The others. The ones we don’t speak about but who speak about us. The ones who ask about us but we don’t mention their names. The ones we expect some other people from some other country to save. The ones praying that God will protect them from their villages set alight, from the men getting shot at and killed, from the girls lost in the forest brutally raped and slaughtered, from the children floating dead in the sea. This is about you. It has to be about you. It makes me so angry that this is happening to you.
I wish the whole world could stop for you. Just for you.
Photo taken at Gyeongbuk Palace, Seoul
More on the Rohingya here.