And Tonight We Grieve

It has happened yet again.

Lives scarred. Lives lost. Lives unceremoniously snatched away from unsuspecting innocents.

A hefty price paid to feed the chasm of human depravity. The price of life.

What little value it holds.

We burn candles. We mourn. We thank our stars in gratitude for not being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

We try to empathize. But, no human experience is ever enough to translate the pain felt by our brethren today. The pain of families left behind. What they wouldn’t give for another minute with their loved ones.

A massacre. A deranged soul. A gun. A law. A Lobby.

It’s time to take stock and weigh. An agenda against a life. A gun against a bullet peircing through the flesh.

Because tonight, we grieve again.


Too much coffee, not enough pancakes.


It is baffling to observe how the human mind, usually quite ensnared in rigmaroles, can also perceive things in a profoundly abstracted manner. Case in point, I read a novel that spun a yarn of shadow hunters, faerie folk, werewolves, demons, angels, battles, hunts, and, above all, a bond of friendship that surpasses all kinds of romantic love and a fierce love for family that would make a man risk everything else. Yet, what stuck with me was this innocent jest made by a character, “Too much coffee, not enough pancakes”.

Yes, too much coffee, not enough pancakes. Metaphorically, isn’t that what the world is all about today?¹ There is just too much bitterness and too little sweetness and fluff to counter it.² Boiled down to brass tacks, the hatred and violence doing the rounds is too painfully disconcerting. There is always a disaster waiting to occur. Opening the newspaper every morning, I am not surprised to  see headlines shrieking of bombings, terror attacks, mass shootings, air strikes and generally, people being killed all over. Not dying, in a natural way or by an act of God, but being mercilessly slaughtered. And for what? I am none the wiser. So I glance through them with eyes that have long forgotten to widen in shock at the depths of human depravity. What piques my interest is the number of deaths that occurred this time. I subconsciously end up ranking the previous day’s travesties in order of number of kills. The indifference of such cold calculation fills me with dread as I look back upon them right now. I am horrified with how desensitized I am becoming. Me, who was too often chided for being overly empathizing. To think my old man was worried watching too many crime shows was what would end up doing this to me! I cannot help but laugh at his misplaced concern.

I wish it was as Simple as the phrase I read. I wish the world had just enough pancakes. Maybe a handful of waffles and a tad of maple syrup thrown in for good measure!

¹Even though this was not the context or even an interpretation of the dialogue as written in the book.

²Disclaimer: This post in no way belittles my undying love for bitter, black  coffee.

P.S.: For those wondering, the book is called Lady Midnight by Cassandra Clare. I would recommend it to those who love reading fiction, fantasy, mystery magic and wars. Read about it here.