Is 'World Peace' An Elusive Dream ?

By Swarnavo Ghosh

Amid the chaos of the entwined dreams, I was born out of agitation like a refulgent beacon of hope in the abyss of despondency. I was born to be the ultimate panacea in a world of failed homo sapiens writhing in pain and agony with their wounds from wars and oppressions galore, thereby enshrouding their sombre lives in utter dark hues. From a crowded metropolis to a lone village, from the bleeding hearts of men to those who dream of the impossible – I pervade the senses of a million souls. I am known as ‘world peace’ and my birthday falls on 21st September, widely celebrated as ‘World Peace Day’.

Like a magnificent pearl in a fathomless sea of azure, I was admired by many and then spread like wildfire from small dusty precincts to huge masses of nations and continents. My flame flickered regal yellow, keeping the entire world in my reliable hands. While my counterparts, ‘war’ and ‘disharmony’ were facing their annihilation and had tears of agony, I was rhapsodic over my triumphant victory. They were mute spectators to nothing but darkness while I was a frolicsome yet grave spectator to eternal glory.

Years whizzed by and then I started confronting an unprecedented apprehension. While the people shouted 'camaraderie' I perceived 'hostility'; when they shouted 'equality', my ears rang with the cacophonies of ‘oppression’ and when they saw 'light’, I saw 'darkness’. It was dark-as dark as the hearts of those who revel in the beauty of destruction. I remembered what my counterparts had said an eternity ago, "You are going to approach your doom and we will surely outmanoeuvre you with the stinting support of the nations with unabating military power." I weep now with shining beads of tears rolling down my cheeks incessantly in anguish.

The Russian-Ukraine crusade that broke loose between both the nations has caused the greatest humanitarian crisis in Europe after the First and the Second World War. A thousand of young, dauntless soldiers, mostly of Ukraine, lying dead on the marrow-freezing ground anointed with their gore and entrails is a sight that can shake the most stoic person. Their hacked bodies in a quagmire of disgusting red blood with their severed eyes as deep as a catacomb of dead memories echo the deep-rooted pathos brewing their wounded souls. The boiling cauldron of uncertainty brimmed over when it was very heart-rending to see the common masses bleeding a malevolent red, the Russian troops hacking fists and thighs with their harnesses and spite-filled swords, and the counterparts splashing fountains of berry-red blood in the fetid air. All this killed a part of my existence, a part called freedom to live. They sacrificed me on the altar of wars and oppressions that have become dreadful enough to nibble on the roots from which the United Nations’ Security Council came to light. I then whispered “Is world peace an elusive dream?”

It was not many miles away that I came across another victim of their maddening rage. They called her ‘Gauri’. She was writhing in pain as blood drained from her body in the pleasing quietude of the night. Battered and bruised, they killed another part of me, chocking me to silence. I wept but not a single soul listened as they continued to make this Paradise a ‘battlefield’ again. I was like a feeble old man on the verge of annihilation nonplussed at what was happening around me while they continued to erase certain boundaries between solidarity and mutiny, between humanity and hatred, and between communism and capitalism. I was thus spawned in the sores of rejection.

While all this happened, I saw a beacon of hope that I would finally be salvaged from my deplorable condition, from my eradication as I saw the flags of my favourite colour. The flags fluttered in everyone's houses and in everyone's hearts. Everyone sang praises and I too, but alas, there as a ‘Satan’ in all this glory behind the infinite promises. As soon as the colour was embraced by millions, a new era of ‘hooliganism’ embarked. Pakistan brutally lynched many of the Indian soldiers several times due to Kashmir- the bone of contention and the apple of discord. Party factions and religious bigotry ripped both the countries into shreds, thereby leading me to my undoing.

Furthermore, my existence became oblivious when I came upon a widowed mother waiting at the door as dusk continued to engulf the world. She sat there waiting for her son. Little did she know that her son was being trampled and hacked to death only because of racial differences. The barbarism eventually intensified with hatred and animosity in the veins of a particular faction. Those ‘denizens of Hell’ continued to stab the womb from which they came into this world, with arrogance, greed and bigotry to kill me- ‘World Peace’.

I resigned myself to my fate when I noticed a raging cold war between China and the United States just because of power and supremacy. A thick mantle of depression further descended on me when I saw the powerful nations indirectly enthroning over those who wish to embrace me with a bear-hug. If the world as a whole really wanted to keep me alive in my abalone hearts and eschew my counterparts, why would the U.S.A. spend about 722 billion dollars to get its hands over assault rifles, tanks, nuclear weapons, submarines, aircraft carriers etc., thereby strengthening its military field? Why would China, India, North Korea, Israel, Russia and Britain spend oodles of money just for augmenting their military fields? In view of the predicament, I am nothing but a scared voice buried below a raucous cacophony of a million voices – a poor, emaciated leaf in a thriving plant. I am afraid of fading into nothingness in a fathomless deluge of apathy.

In spite of the ravages which have left me in pain like a lost psychotic, I try to connect my fragmented existence when I see Russia and India providing succour to each other in dire straits, Israel helping India when in need, India burgeoning an unwavering bond with Japan, etc. I am on the way to find myself once again, rediscover my lost spark in the rarest moment at the remotest places, and this can be possible only if the world collectively gives up on my counterparts and promote solidarity, camaraderie, empathy, solicitude and unity. Only then will I be able to uplift myself from the sombre silhouette of devastation like the Phoenix that rises from its own ashes. Only then will I be able to manifest hope and entangle the heart and soul of every living being like strands in a shapeless web of life in the great microcosm that exists both inside and outside human senses. However, it is not possible for the entire world to make my cherished dream a reality in today’s progressive eon because my counterparts have become invincible and they have been bestowed with an unswerving strength to press me down. Hatred, disharmony, malice, prejudice, and a concoction of negative qualities have become so rampant that I find myself almost dead, thriving to live and spread my effulgence all across.

At this juncture, when I was coffined by a mass of black-hearted people, I asked myself, "Is world peace a far-off dream? Is it truly elusive?" I heard reverberating echoes of "Yes” and "No" amid the squall of distress that crawled beneath the sod and hit my coffin terribly hard. I then murmured to myself, “As of now, the world does not want me. I am morose and hopeless.” Every last dreg of optimism that had crystallised in me, melted away in the poignant sea of darkness- sempiternal and unrelenting.

By Swarnavo Ghosh