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  • Writer's pictureNamrata Gurung

Skeletons, we are

Bones in white, And flesh of color, I wonder if you know our blood is the same red.

Identity forced down your throat, Brain-wiring purposefully fused into a specific pattern, I wonder if there’s any logic, Behind all your reasoning.

Born by a matter of chance, Born into families and places you never really knew, I wonder how you feel so entitled To discriminate so ruthlessly.

Made of the same hydrocarbons and literally same cosmic dust Belonging to the same ancestral chromosome family I wonder how you think you have the right To kill your own kin.

We call ourselves humans, Yet we function with our primitive instincts, Fear and insecurities Drive us to the extent to feel no guilt Even when committing heinous sinful crimes Inhumanly, irrationally.

We seek to create artificial intelligence Considering ourselves as cognitive beings, But sometimes it looks like We are only beings on automation, Automation, set in early days of survival That hasn’t left our brain still.

We seek simple solutions and simple answers, To problems complex and multi-dimensional, Not wanting to understand or listen Yet wanting to be heard and understood.

We have pride for things we never did, Disgust for things we never experienced, We judge so easily Yet think so slowly.

We shun the idealists And reward the realists, We enjoy mockery Yet forget at whose expense it is.

We are all just hypocrite beings Living lies and hiding truths we don’t want to face, We butter our ego with sleazy comments And expect every second person to do the same.

We run away from questions That question our rooted values and identity Believing that has been the ultimate truth since time immemorial, Yet not knowing That knowledge itself is a cracked pot molded by the same fickle humans.

Differences external, Were meant to be celebrated, Yet now it seems to be the very reason for a divide.

We were born not knowing what color of the flesh meant, Yet now, Even the same red blood of another human seems alien.

So, why, tell me why, does the same skeleton color of Calcium, Whether yours or mine, Have to be determined by ill-formed synapses of the grey matter momentarily alive ?


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