Dreams and Sorrow

by R.G Shivakeshavan

Subjugation of many, many innocents and more,
Which, in turn amplifies the worse incidents of yore.
And when the damaged sphere of patience explodes, with it comes
Danger!
Thus the untamed emotions like anger and disappointment cause
wondrous destruction and further woes.
But the non-participants of such clashes are beset with a third kind
of emotion, also resulting from activities from actions of
subjugators.
Sorrow, the emotion resulting from surrender and acceptance.
Sorrow, the emotion of the truly divine.
Sorrow, the silent motivator of change.
Sorrow, the power of thought, independent of time.
Doleo, mutator de tempus,
(Sorrow, the changer of time.)
Silentium, mutator de tempus,
(Silence the changer of time.)
Eheu! Tempus, mutator de quies!
(Alas! Time the changer of dreams!)

At 19, Cecilia Mozambi had much to see of the true nature of the world. She was just plain lucky that she was bought by a relatively pleasant and kind family. She had heard of the atrocities committed by the white men. But now fear filled her heart as she thought of her future.

The rain drummed on the tin roof of her tiny room sounding like a milder version of a machine gun firing. It was the rain that had the possibility of offering her misery. She knew how lucky she was to work for the master she had. His family and himself were fair and generous. She thanked god for that.

The Rain had almost flooded the lands, making the, rivers rise, the soil loose, and so causing the crops to fail. The whole house was thrown in chaos because of this. The family was low on resources and couldn’t afford to maintain all their slaves. So they had decided to sell a number of slaves to make the burden easier on themselves.

Cecilia was one of the slaves who were selected to be sold. She had pleaded and cried to them, but they just shook their troubled heads and looked away.

She had a week to stay on, in the farm. Then she would have to go to the slave market. All those stories her friends told her about monstrous white men ill-treating slave girls, gave her nightmares.

She contemplated running away, but she would be undoubtedly stalked, chased and punished in the worst possible ways. Maybe even killed.

The days passed like minutes, each wrenching her heart tighter and tighter till she could have suffocated out of fear. When the day came the household was filled with sobbing, wailing and screaming. Finally the chosen ones were assembled outside and each reluctantly ascended the cart, which was to take them to the slave market. They hugged each other and cried uncontrollably all the way to the market.

Once there, they alighted and were led to a large filthy hall crowded with whites and slaves. The slaves were made to stand in rows as white men inspected them. Cecilia and her friends were made to join the rest of the slaves. The white men went about studying the slaves as if they were lifeless objects.

Cecilia watched in horror as slaves who were bought, were dragged out wild and kicking. Uncontrollable slaves were beaten up. Blood splattered on the floors and walls. It was almost like a slaughterhouse, only, the slaves were just spared. A million questions raced through her mind as she witnessed these horrible scenes. Right from the meaning of life to why Africans were being exploited.

Suddenly above the chaos and din, Cecilia spoke: “Why, oh sirs, are we destined to suffer? We pray to the same lord and we bleed the same blood, the blood of the humans. Then why, oh sirs, are we oppressed like this?”

The whole hall was filled with silence as both the slaves and white men stared at her in shock. Then slowly a white man smiled, walked up to her and said: “Oh, Queen of blacks, only now do we understand what horrible wretches we have been. Will you forever forgive us?” Cecilia was filled with surprise. It was too easy. Something wasn’t right but she nodded in answer to his question. At that, he laughed as the back of his hand smashed into her face, sending her reeling to the ground. “Shut up you goddamn filthy ****! You don’t ask questions. You obey!” And with that he kicked her in her stomach.

She sobbed softly as blood gushed from her mouth and nose. Then all hell broke loose. The slaves started attacking the whites. There were loud gunshots and flashes everywhere as bullets and lead pellets whizzed past in the air. Many a slave fell with a bloody shattered nose, head or chest.

“No!” the enlightened Cecilia screamed. “Leave them alone. They don’t know what they are doing.” But none of her companions paid heed to her. In fact they increased their attack against the whites when they heard the abused slave’s voice.

Cecilia managed to stumble out of the violent slaughterhouse without being ripped apart by any of the speeding bullets. She clutched her bruised and throbbing eye. She looked around with her other eye, and saw the empty unguarded cart. The temptation of freedom from all this hell was too much for her to think or reason. She ran towards it half sobbing and half laughing. She jumped on the cart, taking both the horses by surprise. She lashed out at them with the whip. The horses galloped down the rocky terrain as her mind screamed to them – “Take me away! Anywhere far from here!”

She knew that they would soon be on her heels. But the horses galloped down the rocky terrain as if they knew where they were going. They soon came to a small wooded area. A small stream flowed swiftly by, and a cool gentle wind rustled the leaves on the trees. It was enough to make any other traveler stop and admire but Cecilia was no ordinary wanderer. She lashed out at the horses’ backs till they turned red. The horses, which had started, slowing down, now stopped.

The whole landscape, including the air rippled around her, as if she was the center of an expanding glass sphere. The ripple kept expanding till it was too large to be seen. Cecilia gasped in shock. Thinking that she was becoming crazy enough to start hallucinating, she whipped the horses to get them to move.

Then the horses turned and said: “Why, oh miss, are we destined to suffer in the hands of you merciless humans? We breathe the same air and we bleed the same blood, the blood of the mammals. Then why, oh Miss, are we ill-treated as such? Why? Why? Why?” The horses stared at her with wild eyes and bared their teeth as they approached her. Cecilia screamed.

The noose tightened around over her neck. “Well missy!”, the white man said. “You are being punished. You will be hung for inciting a rebellion which was uncalled for.”

“ Hang the ****!” he screamed. She smiled, and looked around her and saw the empty cart. “It is a funny co-incidence”, she thought. The cart was empty. “Where could those two horses have gone? What had really happened?” There were many questions to be answered. But time was running out. She was blindfolded, and as the floor collapsed from her feet, and as the rope crushed her windpipe she had one last thought. “Everything about my escape must have been a dream or rather a nightmare. How else can I account for my being hanged?” The rope crushed out the last living breath from her body.

“Why?” demanded the horses. Cecilia stared shocked. “It is all a dream.” She muttered. “But then why can’t I get out of it? It seems a little too real!”
“What is going on?” she screamed clutching her head.

“But Why?” demanded the horses, or rather the big gray wolf they had merged into. “To see my grandmother.” Replied the fair and plump little Cecilia who war a pretty little red hood on her head. “Mother says Grandma isn’t well and I am to take this food for her”, she continued indicating the basket she was carrying. “And besides the way through the woods is the fastest. So I come this way.”

Cecilia had by then forgotten everything that had happened before. She remembered her pleasant mother and kind father and their house by the Rhine. She lived in a happy life. She was only seven and there was much to learn from the world. But something lingered in Cecilia’s mind. A mild feeling of sorrow and pity. As if she knew something but couldn’t recall it.” She actually relished that feeling of unknown sorrow. She couldn’t understand anything about these feelings, but right now as far as she was concerned, she was little Red-riding hood, as her parents and friends called her, and she was confronting an ugly gray wolf….

(And for those who don’t know it, Red-riding hood has a happy ending!)

Doleo mutator de tempus