Part 1
For how are they made? By the inequality that surrounds. By their angst that accompanies our opulence. By the unfairness of it all. And when I look at my hands, I realize, I also have a hand in making them. I can’t condone, but I can’t incriminate either. There is blood on my hands too.
Part 2
Yes, I am desensitised. Because I exist in agonising helplessness when millions around the world die of poverty, lack of healthcare etc. Yes, it’s connected. And when those who prefer to be oblivious to this, wake up to a terrorist act and resurrect humanitarianism, just because it struck too close, I smell rot. My bad.
Part 3
I’m sorry. Sorry that it was your duty to become the nation’s cross-bearer. I’ll not join groups that’ll claim not to let your sacrifice go in vain. Sorry it will. We’ll get back to our lives. Sorry we’ll forget you in time. All I can do is pray, for you and those you left behind.
until next time, topical compassion!!!!

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