Poiana brasov
Year 2003
Mid of February.

It was beautiful. My first experience with real snow & pine trees. I don’t remember the day-I was lazily walking by the pedestrian lines. I felt the curious stares I was bagging as I walked, which I ignored most of the times. I shouldn’t say it didn’t make me bothered, but living in a multi-cultured, multi-nationals filled country I learned to “ignore” few things, or accepted few things quite normal. Then there came this woman. She was in her late thirties, holding the hand and almost dragging a little boy and walking hurriedly towards me. She halted for a moment. I watched her face drained off colors. She dragged her little boy closer to her almost alarmed. May be she never expected meeting a “brown” man so close to her, almost walking towards her, ever in her whole life time.

Early 1998-I was reading some kind of Indian newspaper. It has an article about how few African artists were almost insulted by Indian hostesses when they reached India. It read like “the hostesses started rushing towards the white…abandoning the Africans…they waited almost three hours before somebody attended them…”

My disappointment was not reduced by recollecting this long ago read article. It is unavoidable-even in this era where we talk or brag about globalization, zero disparity & 100% acceptance regardless the skin color differences. From the ancient times children were told the “darker” human were dirty, smelly and stinky, and the children grown up-building a dislike or some sort of reservations towards the “darker” counterparts.

When a country like India, where the majority of nationals are “brown” cannot open heartedly accept the darker nationals from other parts of world, it was stupidity for me to expect better treatment from a country where “dark” people hardly exist. I must have remembered that the developed countries like United Kingdom or United States of America is not excluded from the list of abuse, hatred, or race based disparities. I think its human & even after thousands of Michael Jackson’s spoil their throats singing
“But, If
You're Thinkin'
About My Baby
It Don't Matter If You're
Black Or White”

It hardly going to wiped out from the hearts of living people. Let us don’t talk about the people who are dead, they don’t hate anybody and let us not be worried about the children to be born-neither they hate anybody.

I was reading dan’s comment for a poem recently posted with agonia. I must say Dan has said something which makes total sense.